The Taming of the Hawk
by Angel0y
Summary: Ever wonder why Mihawk allowed Zoro and Perona to stay on the island, even though he obviously preferred to be alone? It was because they weren't the first unexpected visitors to share his home. A girl, before any of them, washed up on shore, a near broken shell, and through some miracle on high, somehow managed to gain favor with the Worlds' Greatest Swordsman.(Mostly Mihawk x OC)
1. Upon a Foggy Night

**Hello all.**

 **Well, I've had this thought in my mind for a while and now I'm trying to bring it to life. I hope that I portray the characters correctly and to anyone reading this fic that wants to be a Beta Reader, I'd happily accept. But now, onward with the story.**

 **So I don't get sued, here is the one and only disclaimer I will place.**

 **I do no own One Piece or anything associated with it, but damn I wish I did.**

* * *

Time had lost meaning long ago. Reason and logic had fled, leaving only instinct behind. And that instinct said _'Hold On'._ And hold on she did. The shattered remains of what had once been part of a ship heaved under her as another wave rolled by. Jagged nails dug in deeper to the edges and frigid seawater coated her again. The planking under her left splinters in her skin, but was large enough to support her body as it bobbed through the water.

Another wave sent the pitiful excuse for a lifeboat swaying again and caused a new jolt of pain to rip through her body. Her muscles had long since gone numb, locked in place and leaving her clinging to the edges of the door sized chuck of wood. She was fairly certain she'd lost consciousness several times, but somehow her body had still hung onto the floating debris.

A cough racked her suddenly, sending agony shooting though her. Too many injuries on her person, she'd lost count of them all. Weakness was starting to take over. The cold embrace of the sea was calling to her. Cawing like an ocean bird, luring her in...

The call came again and a moment of clarity broke through. That call...it wasn't death...it was...

Blue eye blinked, refocusing to see a thick fog around her. The sloshing of the wave overwhelmed her dilated senses for a moment, before she heard it again. The caw of a bird. Birds lived near land, not out on the open sea.

There was a flicker of something in her chest. Something other than pain and despair. She didn't dare try to believe it was hope. As the rolling waves moved on, the fog parted slightly and blearily, she saw tall dark trees and strange hills that curled into themselves. Gasping a bit and feeling her heart speed up, she struggled to move her body. Her muscles practically creaked and groaned at being asked to move and the searing ache in her body brought tears to her eyes, but she managed to slip her legs into the ocean.

The water would have been freezing and would have made anyone else yelp in shock, but her nerve endings had gone numb long ago. Ever hungry for ending lives, the cruel ocean enveloped her, the current dragging her downwards. Muffled silence flooded her ears, her thumping heartbeat one of the only things she could hear.

Legs kicked and her head broke the surface with a gasp. Oxygen filled her lungs, as well as a mouthful of salty liquid. Then there was something solid under her bare feet, something that didn't heave in protest. Air hit her skin, hands grasped fistfuls of wet sand as she pulled herself onto the shoreline through a force of will she didn't even know she possessed. When finally her whole body was on the landmass and the waves of the ocean no longer touched her, she allowed herself to finally collapse.

The next time she opened her eyes, what filled her vision was the wispy air and ominous trees looming high above her.

 _Must've blacked out again...Damn._ A pained groan rolled from between her lips as she rolled onto her stomach. Pushing herself to her knees, she clutched one arm around her lower torso and hissed through clenched teeth. _Broken ribs...fantastic._

The chilly air was making itself known on her now dry skin. Shivers started to wrack her form. That surprised her, she didn't think her body had that kind of energy to spare. But it was welcomed, it meant she was still alive.

 _For now anyway._ Staring into the eerie, black forest, she painfully climbed to her feet. Shelter was the first thing she needed to find, someplace to try and warm up a little. As though the world hear her thoughts, a wind gusted past, making her hunch her shoulders. When she looked up again, far, far away in the distance, she spotted something that may have been some kind of building.

That could work...but it was **miles** away. A near whine exited pasted her lips before she could stop it. _Saved from dying in the ocean, only to die on a spooky, abandoned island. Who the hell did I piss off in my last life?_ Her blackened, sarcastic thoughts found no answer in the still air of the island.

Walking hurt. **ALOT**. Hell, at this point, breathing hurt. Spending what she assumed to be a few days drifting at sea, not to mention the abuse before the storm had hit had defiantly not yielded a kind result. Limping along slowly and chronically wincing, she made progress into the dank, oddly silent forest _(it had to be a trick of her senses that the air seemed to smell a little too strongly of blood and smoke)._ Rocks and sticks cut into her feet, sharp branches scrapped her skin and tangled in her hip length hair, but she forced herself to keep moving.

A CRACK sounded in the distance. Freezing in place, she darted her eyes around, looking for the source. Shadows moved behind the trees. Really big shadows. Growls cut through the air and red eyes glared outwards. She moved backwards, heart thundering in her chest and adrenaline starting to course through her veins even as she spoke her first words in days,

"Should have stayed in the fucking water..."

Then she ran like hell, hearing bloodthirsty hoots follow close behind.

* * *

A quick pull on the rope secured his vessel to the dock. The knot was tight and wouldn't slip, the candles on the edges had burnt out along the way. He'd need to replace them, but for now, he was mildly glad to be back on solid ground again.

Sharp, gold eyes surveyed his island. It was as he had left it. Silent, still and dark with the scent of wet earth and a metallic tang. His tall boots crunched the ground with only the softest of sounds, idlily wondering if it was old bones under his feet. The thought was brushed aside and replaced with a more interesting one.

"Roronoa Zoro…" The name slipped past his lips almost against his will and a barely seen muscle twitch in an almost smile. But of course, his expression remained solemn and serious. Dracule Mihawk was not a man to express emotion unnecessarily. Even when thinking about a brash, inexperienced swordsman, albeit one with some small measure of promise. He would most defiantly be keeping an eye on the young warrior, if only to alleviate his own boredom for a time.

As he walked through the forest of Kuraigana Island, enjoying the oppressive silence of his chosen home, the screaming battle cries of the Humadrills spilt the air in the distance. His pace didn't waver in the slightest, the baboons won't dare come near him. Another series of jagged howls came and this time, Mihawk flicked his namesake eyes towards the sound.

Senses tuned far beyond what any normal human could hope to achieve honed in on the disturbance the intelligent apes were causing. A quick surge of Kenbunshoku Haki flared up and his vision shifted in perspective.

Several of the primeapes were running in the distance, moving quickly and in coordination. Barely twenty feet ahead, a second presence fled widely, waves of fear rolling off them, but a nearly muted sliver of steely determination shining through. Though with the weakened state of the individual, even the most stubborn of wills would break quickly, given the black shade associated with death that colored the edges of the yellow hued aura he saw.

Shifting his stance slightly, Mihawk waited. The Humandrills prey was heading right for him and mild curiosity at the uninvited visitor to his island made him willing to wait and see if they even made it to him before the monkeys caught up. Out of caution, he scanned the distance for more intruders, surprised when he found no other living auras then the Humandrills and their target.

Speaking of which...Mihawk glanced back towards the commotion just as tree branches parted and a flesh colored blur flew out of the darkness. His eyebrows raised up a fraction of an inch at the movement. Not because of the appearance of the person, but because of her state of dress. Or rather lack there of. The female running for her life was bare as the day she was born.

As he stood stoically in place, the girl finally looked up from her frantic dash. And her response to his presence was not what he was expecting. Instead of desperately begging for his aid, pleading for her life, she skidded to a stop so suddenly she fell on her backside. Blue eyes opened so wide he saw the red edges of her eyelids and a wheezing, terror laced scream exited her lips.

Mihawk watched passively as the women scrambled backwards, feet slipping in the dirt as she twisted onto her front and crawled away as fast as humanly possible. Behind her, the Humandrills leapt from the treeline and promptly froze at the site of the World's Greatest Swordsmen. He ignored the apes in favor of studying the flailing form of the women at his feet. She finally managed to push herself up...only to trip on the roots of one of the trees and crash to the ground again.

He waited for a few heartbeats. The girl didn't move. Walking over, he looked down at her. She'd fallen and hit her head on a rock, knocking herself unconscious and causing a trickle of blood to flow to the ground. He nearly rolled his eyes. She'd fought that hard to escape the monsters of the isle, only to leave herself helpless at the sight of him.

But as his trained eyes flicked over her form, understanding blossomed. The women was an absolute wreck. What skin wasn't colored black and blue was brunt red from exposure. Cuts, scraps, gashes and lacerations coated her body, some fresh wounds openly oozing crimson liquid while others were older and scabbed over. A frown marred his expression as he studied her and replayed the event in his mind.

There had been no recognition in her expression when she'd seen him. Mihawk was more than accustom to people noticing him, staring at him and in most cases, nearly soiling themselves in fear, but this girl hadn't reacted in that manner. No, her actions had a much deeper meaning, more primal and instinctive.

His gaze trailed from her feet and climbed up her form, aura darkening as he saw distinctive fingerprint bruises on her hips and bare breasts as well as a red crusted crescent-shaped mark on her shoulder that only human teeth could replicate.

The Humandrills in the distance shifted slightly, sensing his mood blackening, but still unwilling to leave their prey, unsure of what he would do. And truthfully, Mihawk was unsure as well. This girl was an uninvited presence on his isle and however unfortunate her situation was, he owned her nothing. Gold eyes glanced up at the muscle bound apes. If he walked away, the violent creatures would tear the girl apart and another litter of bones would join the blood soaked grounds. That didn't really bother him very much.

On the other hand, his recent encounter at the Baratie and brief visit with Shanks had left him in a rather generous mood. Life had ceased being interesting or challenging, leading the Shichibukai to seek alleviation of the mononoms drone in other ways. And this girl was indeed something unexpected, something to alter his routine for a time. At least till he grew annoyed of the company, which he undoubtable would.

Plus, the girl had fought valiantly for her life, pressing on when more resilient beings would have happily submitted to fate. She had a tenacity rarely seen in this age. That alone made him slightly more willing to help. There was no value in allowing someone to live that didn't possess a strong will to survive.

And despite himself _(and he would sell Yoru on the black market before ever admitting it),_ seeing the physical marks of brutality on the women stirred a righteous rage and desire to peel the skin off whomever had harm her. He did not support weakness, the world was a cruel and harsh place that allowed only the strongest to prosper, but human savagery on this level crossed a line that he abhorred.

Decision made, Mihawk bent down and scooped the naked women into his arms. The Humadrills faded back into their forest without further protest. As he lifted the girl, she whimpered softly and turned her head away from him. A tiny smirk graced his lips. _Clever girl. Even with her sense muted, she recognises danger._

Turning, he started the trek back to his castle. It had been sometime since he'd had another's presence in his home. This might prove to be interesting yet.

* * *

 **Well, I originally intended this chapter to be longer, but this feels like a good place to end it as an opening.**

 **I will be attempting to a add some Japanese content to the story, but I am full blow Canadian born and raised, so I might screw up a bit. Most of the info I'm using is from the One Piece Wiki and the Funamation anime, so I apologise if I miss something.**

 **In the meantime, I hope I managed to capture Dracule Mihawk correctly. I've always liked his character in the anime and am always browsing the fanfics for new stories about him. As so little is truly known about him, it give some wiggle room to be creative.**

 **Anyway, I hope everyone likes the first chapter and please feel free to review if you do.**


	2. Promises and Faith

**Hello everyone.**

 **Thanks to all who are following along, your support is greatly appreciated. This chapter is a bit longer and i'm hoping will generally be the staple for lengths, though variations may come up.**

 **If anyone's looking for an amazing fic to read with hilarity galore, check out** **"HeavenHellanime"'s page and read her "Lettered" fic. Its amazing and with her permission, I've used some of her ideas in this chapter. But for now, on with the story.**

* * *

 _She dreamed of fields of green grass and a kind, loving smile that always lifted her mood. O_ _f angry voices, sounds of conflict and crimson liquid running down walls..._

 _She dreamed of heaving floors, dark walls, salt scented air and cold metal. O_ _f mocking laughter and searing pain and screaming protests..._

 _She dreamed of crashing thunder and splintering wood. Of fridge winds and the icy embrace of waves..._

 _She dreamed of clawed hands wrenching and pulling her into darkness. O_ _f unnatural golden eyes burning with deadly intensity and violence..._

Jerking awake with a sudden scream, Tamara bolted upright. And promptly hugged her middle with both arms, collapsing backwards with a pained cry as agony ripped through her, stealing all breath from her lungs. For a while, all she could do was pant helplessly. After a bit, the pain started to fade away and her senses started to become aware of her surroundings. The surface under her back was soft. That was alarming in itself, seeing as her last clear memory was running from weapon wielding baboons.

She didn't have the mental clarity at the moment to process how bizarre that was.

As her vision cleared, Tamara turned her head and looked around. She was inside a room, a big room, dimly lit by candles on the walls. The bed under her was comfy, and a thick blanket covered her legs. After reassuring herself that there was no one lurking in the deep shadows, she turned her attention to her own person.

She was dressed? Well...sort of. Someone had put a shirt on her, one far too large with a ruffled neck and a spicy, masculine scent clinging to it. Tamara could feel the itch and scratch of bandages over her body and when she lifted her hand to study the palm, the deep scraps from multiple falls had been cleaned of dirt and rocks.

Now, confusion and panic started to rise up. Pushing onto her elbows _(fighting back the urge to yelp again)_ , she surveyed the room a second time. _Still alone...how'd I get here?_ Struggling to recall past events, all that came to mind was a tall shadowed silhouette with piercing yellow circles that held no hint of warmth. Tamara's heart started to speed up.

Carefully moving into a sitting position, she swung her legs over the side of the bed. Which took far longer than she would have liked and made her head spin but after a few moments, she noticed a bed stand tucked next to the headboard. A tall glass filled with what looked like water and a plate with a small loaf of bread sat on top, looking both highly suspicion and incredible tempting at the same time.

Her stomach clenched tightly at the sight of the food, growling loudly. Swallowing hard, and trying to ignore the sensation of razorblades stuck in her throat, Tamara looked to the door quickly. It remained shut and pausing to listen intently to her surroundings yielded nothing. Aside from her own breathing and the occasion soft swish from the candleflames, the castle was silent and still.

Sapphire orbs glanced back at the food. It might be poisoned or drugged, but her body craved the nutrients desperately. Reaching out a trembling hand, Tamara carefully picked up the glass, eyes darting back to the door as though expecting a daemon to burst through at any moment. Sniffing the liquid, she swallowed again, debating on her choices.

Eat and maybe die, or ignore the offer and leave herself in a more weaken state. Licking her lips she finally mutter softly to herself, "Screw it...things can't get much worst."

The first few sips felt like she was swallowing sandpaper, but the soothing liquid eventually calmed her ragged throat. Setting the glass aside, Tamara stared hard at the door as she pulled the bread apart and devoured it ravenously. Her lower lip was split and cracked open as she chewed, adding a salty mellitic tang to the meal, but she was far more worried about whoever or whatever had fixed her up and what their intentions were.

Feeling slightly better with food in her system, Tamara slowly pushed herself to her feet. The bandages wrapped around her soles, and adding pressure to them nearly drove her to her knees, but she pushed back the pain forcefully. Cold air wisped over her skin and made her shiver violently. The shirt hit mid thigh, the sleeves fell over her hands and one shoulder kept sliding out, but she was grateful for at least some coverage.

Rolling up the cuffs to free her hands, Tamara she took a few steps forward. Wobbling a bit, she reached out to balance herself on a chair at the foot of the bed. Blinking a few times to adjust her vision to the dim light, she focused on the items resting on it...and stared in disbelief.

There was a simple dark cloak tossed over the back of the chair. That wasn't what caught her eye though. A gold sheathed dagger inlayed with precious gems sat on the seat and gleamed in the low light. The hilt looked to be made of ivory with a cross shaped guard and a round pommel.

Looking up again, she scanned the room, just to assure herself there was no Visual Den Den recording everything. Who the hell would was willing to give her a weapon? Recalling the dark figure that had sparked absolute, soul freezing terror in her, another thought hit her. _Is this some kind of game? Some twisted way for someone to get their jollies off? Give someone a flicker of hope...only to rip it away?_

"Wouldn't surprise me, this has to be the most demented mindfuck ever..."

Still, she wasn't going to turn down any form of defense. Picking it up, she wrapped her hand around the hilt, grabbed the sheath and gently pulled. The double edged weapon slid out partway from the holder, silver metal showing her face. Tamara barely recognised her reflection with all the bruises.

Another shiver ran through her and goosebumps rose on her skin. Re-sheathing the dagger, Tamara picked up the cloak and wrapped it around herself. The heavy material immediately fell to her ankles and blocked out the most of the icy chill. Securing it at her neck, her brow furrowed slightly and she lifted the edge, giving the cloth a healthy sniff.

It was the same scent that clung to the shirt she wore. A dark, heady aroma that spoke of strength and confidence. Tamara might have enjoyed it a few months ago. Now it made her shudder and tighten her grip on the dagger. Carefully making her way to the door, she stood to the side and reached out to test the doorknob. It wasn't locked.

Somehow that made her more afraid.

Unsheathing the weapon, she poked her head out into the dark hallway. Old, gothic architect walls and stone floors with no carpets. On the right, the hall ended in a large cathedral window with an opening on one side that held a pair of curving stairs leading upwards. The left stretched into darkness. No other movement or sound stirred.

Her eyes adjusted to the gloom as she slipped through the door. Pale, foggy light flitted through the window and she took her time walking down the hall, sticking to the walls, moving in a crouch and used her bare toes and knuckles as guides when the darkness became too thick to see. Her fingers started to ache a bit from gripping the hilt too hard, but seeing as ever movement hurt, Tamara didn't think much of it.

The hall had several doors on each side. She didn't open any, more concerned with land mapping her current location. Finally _(after what felt like ages)_ the walls ended and a grand set of stairs appeared. A massive set of double doors graced the far wall. Glancing at the doors, Tamara bit her lower lip, tasting blood again. That was obviously an exit and it was unguarded. But she was in no condition to be running around in the island wilderness. Hell, she didn't even have shoes on.

There was a distance glow emitting from somewhere on the lower level. The change in lighting from the dismal illumination she'd been walking through was like looking into the sun. Her heart jumped into her throat before she dropped to one knee. Holding her breath, she waited, peering through the rungs of the thick bannister. The light flickered occasionally.

Firelight...fires didn't start themselves indoor. Someone was there. Tamara carefully sucked in a breath, debating her options. She could run, the door was right there. But how far would she logically get? Looking down at the blade in her hand, she swallowed hard. Standing, she removed the long cloak from her shoudlers and set it over the bannister before moving slowly down the stairs.

Focusing on breathing through her nose and placing her feet silently with each step, she moved towards the brightness and ignored the odd aqua color it gave off. Carefully staying out of the glow to avoid casting a shadow, Tamara pressed her back to the wall and listened to the sounds around the open stone doorway.

The crackle of a fire and swish of flames. She heard something that sounded like paper crinkling, the barely heard rasp of moving cloth and an odd _tink_ noise. As far as she could tell, there was only one person in the room. She had a chance against that, with surprise on her side. Tightening her grip on the dagger, Tamara mentally braced and ready herself to strike.

"I left that blade to reassure you, Little Thing. Not to use against me."

The low, calm male tenor that suddenly split the oppressive silence made a scream catch in her throat and her heart drop to her feet.

 _I am so fucked..._

* * *

Tart, acidic and earthy, with a lingering flavor of juniper and black current.

Swallowing the mouthful of burgundy liquid, Mihawk debated the liquor in his glass. A newer wine, younger than he would have normally chosen, but not unpleasant. He would add the vintage to his collection. Setting the glass back onto the side table, he continued reading his book. The room was warmed by the low burning pyre he'd stoked, the flames taking on the eerie green tint that always happened to fire around him.

 _(Mihawk suspected his Haki was the cause, but it wasn't interesting enough to him to warrant investigation.)_

The silence of his estate was interrupted by a barely heard noise. Anyone else would have never detected the faint sound, but he was far from an average man. Still, it didn't cause a response from him, aside from turning to the next page. He wasn't one to offer comfort, even to a women screaming. Despite his outward inattentiveness, Mihawk was well aware of the movement of his guest after she rose. His heightened senses kept track of her easily, though she was certainly making great efforts to avoid detection.

And against anyone else, she would have likely succeeded. Rather impressive, given her condition.

Sipping again at his beverage, enjoying the bitter taste, he allowed the women to creep to the edge of the door. The hiss of steel on air whispered in his ear, unmistakable to his swordsmen senses. _Kogatana_ gave a barely felt hum in warning, though he knew full well his master was aware of the minuscule threat. Mihawk allowed the girl to prep herself before finally speaking.

The Shichibukai was surprised she didn't faint, given how her aura stuttered in sudden fear and the squeaking gasp she sucked in.

Silence descended again and he continued to read. He waited with patience born of years of practice, nearly forgetting about the other presence outside lounge room. Till he heard the slide of metal and a tiny _clink._ The vibration of the blade faded and Mihawk almost smiled. She'd re-sheathed the weapon, this women was clever indeed.

Her voice was dry and raspy, wavering in uncertainty, "Where is this?"

Amusement flicker briefly. Not the first question he was expecting, most people would have demanded his identity. But seeing as she had yet to even show herself, and the fact that she'd actually been ready to attack him without qualm, Mihawk supposed expecting conventional responses from her was misplaced.

"Come into the light if you wish to converse. I dislike speaking to those who lurk in the shadows." It reminded him too much of talking to Gekko Moriah and his distaste for the _Kage Kage no Mi_ user.

Another lengthy period of time passed. He heard the girl shifting back and forth, possibly trying to decide if she should run or brave facing him. It made no difference to him, if she wished to flee back into the forest, he would not go out of his way to help her a second time. Finally in his peripheral vision, he saw the tips of fingers appear around the doorway, slowly followed by a body. Mihawk didn't raise his head, looking for all intent like he was completely ignoring her _(which on some level, he was.)_

She was standing with her side facing him, head turned and eyes intently studying him. A defense tactic, making herself as small a target as possible. Mihawk could taste the suspicion radiating from her and heard her fingers tighten on the daggers hilt.

He reached over and picked up his glass, noting that she'd stiffened even more at the movement and took a small sip before speaking, still not looking at her.

"The cowl was meant to shield you from the cold."

Setting his glass back down and turning to the next page, her response had him catching a chuckle in his throat, "It was noisy...Where is this?"

Her logic was sound and raised Mihawk's regard of her by a tiny fraction. Her intent had been stealth, loose cloth negated that purpose.

Mihawk took a moment to study the women, though she would never have known as he didn't move his eyes. She was still a walking disaster. If anything, cleaning and dressing her wounds had made her appearance look worst. Her long hair was matted and still very dirty. He thought it might be blond in color, but it was hard to tell. The bruises were more prominent now that 24 hours ago when he'd cleaned them. And her left eye was nearly swollen shut.

He was honestly surprised that she'd woken up as quickly as she had and that she was moving around, a resilient individual indeed. Though judging from how hard she was struggling not to shiver, he doubted she be able to hold the image of bravery for long,

"The island is called Kuraigana. You are in the remains of the fallen Shikkearu Kingdom." He felt no need to elaborate further, but evidently his explanation was for naught, "Which is where exactly?"

"Paradise."

"The Grand Line?!"

Mihawk almost looked up but resisted the urge with ease. Alarm pitched her voice a octave higher and caused it to crack more, "Indeed...I will assume from your surprise, you are not from this ocean."

"Gods no..." She mumbled soft enough that he might have missed it if he hadn't been paying attention. That was an interesting tidbit of information to have. _Where is she from if not the Grand Line?_

The girl shifted again, eyes flicking back over her shoulder before refocusing back at him. He saw white teeth flash as she took her lower lip between them before speaking in a voice that quivered, but held a undertone of steel,

"W-what do you want from me?"

Again, another unusual question. Mihawk recalled the malnourished state she'd been in and the wounds he'd treated. He supposed it wasn't unreasonable for her to ask him that. Experiences such as she'd had tended to shatter all faith one had in humankind, particularly in the male portion. Turning a page, he responded with little pause,

"I require nothing from you, nor anyone else."

"You expect me to believe that?"

Mihawk finally rasied his face to look at her, his gaze darkening ever so slightly. The girl flinched so hard she actually took a small step back, "You're current state allows me to overlook that comment. However, should you question my honor again, I will not be so lenient."

He looked back down at his book, feeling no remorse over the terror he'd just inflicted on the traumatized women.

* * *

Tamara frantically resisted the urge to run like hell. Those gold eyes were soulless pits of death. Even the dagger in her hands offered no comfort. The man before her radiated power on a God-like level. Which made some sense. The Grand Line did not breed weakness, someone had to be monstrously strong to survive here. They didn't call it the _'Pirate Graveyard'_ for nothing. Hell, he might even have a Devil Fruit power.

She waited with baited breath for the male sitting primly in the winged armchair to spring forward and finish his threat. But he didn't, merely turning attention back to his book. After a few minutes on standing stupidly in place with nothing else happening, Tamara swallowed. The cold of the castle was starting to pierce deep into her system, she'd lost feeling in her toes long ago. But the two legged predator demanded her full and complete attention.

His deep voice broke the air again, "Return to your room or step closer to the fire. The chattering of your teeth is becoming tiresome."

Her teeth weren't chattering at all actually, she'd clamped her jaw shut to prevent that, but arguing that fact was pointless.

Tamara swallowed again. He hadn't done anything, hadn't moved at all. That didn't lessen the danger he poised, but the slightly difference in temperature in the room compared to where she stood was tempting. And she still had so many question she needed answered.

Slowly, hyper focused on the yellow eyed man, she stepped into the room. The warmth hit her skin, causing pins and needles to run through her system. A snail would have passed by her, but she forced herself to keep moving. The air felt like a thousand gnats were buzzing around. She wasn't sure if that was because of feeling returning to her limbs or because of the presence of the man in the chair.

 _(She wasn't going to think about the fact that the flames were green, it was hard enough to keep her head as it was)_

Slipping behind the high back of a second armchair set across from the occupied one to keep a barrier between them, Tamara shifted to keep him in full vision. He made no move, didn't acknowledge her at all. She waited in silence, expecting some other comment to be said. After a bit, she finally spoke,

"Is there anyone else on the island?"

A page turned as he responded, "No villages or ports, if that is what you're asking. The Humandrills may count as something, but asides from that, there is nothing else."

"Humandrills…?" She felt her brow furrow in confusion at the unfamiliar term.

"Intelligent apes that learn to mimic humans by studying them from a distance. This land was ravaged by a war roughly 9 years ago. The Humandrills watched the results and adapted accordingly. They are not to be underestimated. How did you come to be here?"

Well, there went her plan of running away. Not that she would have stood much of a chance, even without killer monkeys on the loose. Tamara absorbed and filed away the information for later as she debated about how to answer the return question,

"Err...the ship I was on got caught in a wicked storm. Or at least I think it did. Part of the side got ripped open and I was swept out to sea. Don't really remember much till I washed up on shore. Even then its...kinda blurry."

She waited for the interrogation to start, for him to ask what she was doing on the ship, who she was with and what had happened, bracing for the host of horrific memories survival instinct had pushed to the far corners of her mind. When he spoke again, the question wasn't what she expected,

"How old are you?"

"What's the date?" She smoothly countered. He responsed in kind, "July 10th."

A sharp intake of breath wasn't something she could stop as shock hit her like a hammer as she murmured softly to herself, "July...? I-I'm 26 as of three days ago...damn..."

"Truly?" Shock was gone and irritation replaced it making her snap back testily, as she hadn't intended for him to hear that, "Yes, truly!"

Okay, yes, Tamara was a little sensitive about the fact that she still looked like teenager despite her age. Or would have looked like a youth if she didn't currently look like a living zombie. Suddenly realising that she'd just snarled at a man that could probably kill her without moving, she opened her mouth to apologise and beg for forgiveness.

The sound of a velvet smooth rumble reached her ears and made her freeze. It took a moment to recognise the sound. He was laughing at her. _(Well...it was more like a deep chested chuckle, sounding almost like a growl)._ Tamara swallowed hard as the sound faded and the tiniest of smirks could be seen on his face,

"No need to get heated, Little Thing. I was simply curious." The book he held gestured to the empty chair she hid behind, "You may sit. If fact, you probably should sit. Don't worry, I won't bite."

At that comment, terror filled her and black memories flooded her mind, causing her breath to hitch in panic. The junction of her neck flared and she clutched at the spot with her free hand, feeling the band-aid under her fingers, remembering the feel of harsh hands and ripping, tearing sensation of blunt teeth...

Gold eyes looked up, freezing her in place again. There was still no emotion in the gaze, and the amusement from earlier was gone, replaced by the stony expression he'd constantly worn, but neither was there any threat. And when he spoke again, the tone was a fraction softer,

"A poor choice of words on my part, I apologise. If you wish, I give my word that I will not lay single finger upon your person without expressed permission from this moment onward."

Her hummingbird heartbeat fluttered in her chest as she fought to keep from screaming. His voice, so confident and powerful, spoke of honesty, lighting a tiny flicker of hope. Doubt plagued her, but she clung to the promise. She had to, otherwise she was going to break down in tears. As it was, she felt moisture gathering at the corners of her eyes.

Her voice whispered back, heavy with disbelief, "R-really? Y-you really mean that...?"

He gave a single nod, still looking at her and waiting. She somehow managed to nod back and apparently satisfied with that, he shifted his attention back to his book. She waited a bit before she slid around the tall armchair, inches at a time. Finally she was in front and slowly she sat, feeling her whole body sing in relief. She hadn't realised just how much she'd been aching till then.

A long pause carried on as she simply tried to recover. The man paid her no mind, the only sounds heard being the fire and occasional sip of wine and page turn. Tamara gathered her voice and questioned him again,

"How long can I stay here?"

He finally moved, setting down his empty glass and turning his body to pour a fresh drink from a dark bottle. She was barely aware that she'd tensed up and partially drawn the dagger out of its sheath. If the man noticed her movements, he pretended not to and settled back into his previous position.

"As long as you like, or until I tire of your company, whichever comes first." Tamara was pretty sure the latter would happen first, seeing as she had no where else to go now. He kept speaking, "In either case, you are welcome to remain till you've fully recovered."

She blinked several times, feeling a silver of solid hope started to build up, "I...that's...who are you?"

He didn't answer right away, seeming to enjoy the suspense.

"Hawkeye Mihawk." Tamara stared at him in disbelief before speaking, "That's not funny."

"I wasn't attempting to be humorous."

She was pretty sure she'd just blacked out with her eyes open, seeing as her heartbeat had just stopped cold.

* * *

Mihawk really hoped the girl wasn't going to faint _(though a tiny part was amused that she'd thought he was joking)._ With him having promised not to touch her without approval, her being unconscious would make moving her very annoying. He counted to thirty silently before speaking again,

"Breath, Little Thing..."

A sharp gasp filled the air. Her aura's energy was jumping everywhere, though it wasn't the same blind panic he'd accidently caused earlier with his careless comment. This was more stunned shock and disbelief, something he was accustom to causing when he passed through crowds of people that recognised him.

She was probably recalling every rumor she'd ever heard and wondering why the hell she was still breathing.

Time lost meaning. The silence stretched on and he relished it. He'd finish his book before retiring for the night, otherwise he'd be wondering about the ending till morning. As he swallowed another mouthful of wine, a quivering whisper split the peaceful quiet,

"I...I apologise...if I offended."

She was a polite thing, he'd give her that. Her aura had settled, the fearful energy pushed back and the willful strength he'd seen before shining through. The girl was ready to face her fate, and if it meant death by his hand, so be it. Not that he had any reason to kill her, she was no threat, but he didn't intend to tell her that.

He had no need to reassure her, but the sigh of relief was palpable at his response,

"You did not."

Silence descended again. Mihawk checked her spiritual energy with a quick surge of Haki. It waned low, very low. He was guessing she'd powered through her exhaustion via adrenaline and sheer stubbornness, "You should return to your room. Your body needs rest to heal."

Teeth caught lip and he saw a flash of red from the action. She nodded softly, shifting forward and suddenly hissing out in pain between clenched teeth. He gave her a few moments to recover before speaking again,

"Do you require assistance?"

"No!"

Her sharp response held barely restrained notes of terror, likely not from his status, but because of his gender. He ignored the slight twinge in his chest. Her tone softened immediately and her head bowed slightly, though he noted that she still watched him carefully, "No...thank you...Mihawk-san...I-I can manage on my own."

He nodded in response and waited till she'd pushed herself to her feet before moving. Setting aside his book on the table, Mihawk stood with a causal grace, ignoring the girls coiling muscles, before walking over to a small ledge in the wall. Striking a match, he lit a small candle in a round holder and carried it back, turning the brass holding so the round handle faced her,

"No need to have you stumbling around blindly, yours is last door on the right." She hesitantly reached out and took the offered light, though he noted she was very careful to avoid touching him and her voice had a tiny note of petulance when she responded,

"I know the way….thank you."

Bent but not broken, she still had spirit left in her. He sat back down and picked up his book without another word.

The girl slowly made her way to the door and Mihawk saw her glance back at him as she reached the door before leaving. He tracked her movements through the estate, if for no other reason than if she was going to pass out, he didn't want to trip on her when he returned to his room. Once he noted that she'd made it safely to her room and her aura settled into a peaceful hum, he returned his full attention to his book, completely forgetting about her.

It never even passed through his mind that he hadn't asked for her name.

* * *

Far away from the dark, gloomy isle, a large ship limped into a distance port. It was heavily wounded, with torn sails and jagged hole punctured through the hull.

The dockworkers of the unnamed island looked over the damaged vessel with pity. The wild and unpredictable weather of the Grand Line could sink even the strongest of boats. Barters were made and repairs started on the vessel.

Nothing out of the ordinary seemed to occur, it was a standard event in this dangerous ocean. No one in the town noticed the four individuals that left the ship and faded silently into the crowd.

* * *

 **Well, I think that'll do it. I hope everyone enjoys and please feel free to comment or PM me, I'm always open to new ideas and new friends. Next chapter might be uploaded slower, as I work during the week, but I'll try me best.**

 **Oh, and I hope I got my Japanese right on this one too.**


	3. Round 1: Breakfast

**Thanks for the reviews from everyone.**

 **I have two different ideas floating around in my brain for this story. Both Mihawk and Tamara will have trials and tests to go through. It will be a slow going for a while. My plan is to develop a deeper relationship between the two before diving into anything else.**

 **I know some of you are curious about Tamara and what happened to her.** **It will be reveled in time, but I like a bit more of the present story to go along first.**

 **Again, thanks to everyone and please enjoy.**

* * *

Reality and dream blurred together. Pain came and went, comfort and warmth felt and questioned. It felt wrong, felt like a fantasy or distance memory.

At some point, she dreamed that a bowl of rice made it onto the bed stand, as well as a bottle filled with small white pills, and a note written in elegant handwritten that read, _'Take two and go back to sleep'_. She also dreamed of dark shadows and searing pain and tearing teeth. And of a cruel smile on a face she once trusted. Sometimes she thought heard screaming.

The next time she opened her eyes, both her eyes actually opened fully. For a few moments, sheer panic hit her as she completely forgot where she was. Then she remembered and calmed down...mostly calmed down anyway.

For a while, she simply lay in the soft bed, absorbing the feeling and debated going back to sleep. A re-analyzation of her current situation let her brain fully wake up rather quickly.

She felt great! Well, not great, but loads better than she'd felt in months. The aches and pains that had been a constant thing were faded to the point of almost not being felt. Till she stretched a bit and felt twinges all across her body. But still, compared to before, she felt damn near brand new. As she started to sit up, her ribs yelled at her for moving too fast.

 _Okay...still broken...Got it._

Tamara looked around her room again. The candles had burned out, but faint light was coming through the large window. Enough to make out the majority of the room. She was still alone and the door was still closed. She didn't recall much of what had happened after she'd been ordered back to bed by Mihawk, but she noted she was still clinging to the dagger he'd left for her.

As Tamara climb out of bed, there was something new on the chair.

The cloak she briefly remembered tossing over it was gone, but a dress had replaced it. Victorian style with a vee neckline in a pale pink and white color. There was also a folded pile of bandages and a sealed jar of some kind. She'd look at that later. The bottle of pills she thought was a dream was still on the bed stand, though there was no food. But the glass was filled with water again.

Opening the bottle, Tamara popped two and drank every drop before she could talk herself out of it.

Glancing around, she noticed another door in the room for the first time. A grand bathroom was behind it, complete with a large shower.. As she stepped in, movement made her jump. Then feel silly as she'd reacted to her own reflection.

Damn, she looked like hell. Her lip had mostly healed and the bandages looked old. The bruises were fading away, at least. She could see both her cheeks, sunken as they were. Setting the dagger on the marble counter and slipping the shirt off herself, Tamara started the long task of removing all the wrappings on her body. Once the bloody pile of bandages decorated the floor, she looked over herself.

A lot of the minor cuts were mostly healed, with surprisingly little, if no scarring. The deeper ones were heading in the same direction. Except for the bite wound at the base of her neck. It still looked red and angry. As she'd been taking the dressings off, Tamara had noticed a salve that stuck to her fingers. It smelt awful, but apparently healed wounds amazingly. The jar was looking more tempting, she'd have to see if it was the same stuff.

Vanity was the furthest thing from her mind, but it was nice to think that she wouldn't have many physical marks left behind once she was recovered. It might make the memories easier to forget.

Curious, she turned the taps in the shower and was shocked when water started to flow. Now there was something she defiantly wasn't going to turn down. Waiting till the water was hot, she stepped beneath the spray, yelping when the pelting water hit the open wounds. It stung like hell, but Tamara didn't move away. As she watched dirt, blood and debris swirl on the stone floor, her lower lip trembled and she finally let herself break down.

The anguished wail echoed off the bathroom walls and faded away as she fell to her knees, arms hugging herself and sobbed like a child.

She didn't know how long she stayed under the shower spray, how long she let the despair, agony and pain well up and fall out. But she slowly came back to her senses. Her throat was ragged, eyes felt swollen and her nose was running. Sniffing, Tamara stood up. Looking at the back of her hands, turning them over, she pressed her palms to her face and shuddered in a deep breath.

Empty...she felt so empty...and dirty...She'd held back for so long, simply surviving, not letting herself feel. It was almost easier, but she wasn't cold enough or disciplined enough to ignore it forever. She needed to purge, needed to scream and let loose everything. Break herself down into tiny pieces and rebuild from scratch.

Tamara wasn't sure she had enough strength left to do that.

Finally turning off the shower, she stepped out, dripping water. A towel hung from a hook on the wall. She grabbed it and started to dry herself. Calmer now, Tamara recalled everything that had happened as she picked up a silver backed hair brush from the counter and started to detangle her now clean blond tresses.

She was in the home of a god damn Shichibukai. And wasn't dead.

 _'Hawkeye'_ Mihawk...the Worlds' Greatest Swordsmen. And that was about where her knowledge ended with her current host/future executioner, depending on how his mood was. As she walked back out into the room _(grabbing the jeweled dagger as she went),_ confirmed with a wrinkled nosed sniff that the jar had the same gel that had been on the bandages and started to redress her deeper wounds, Tamara recalled their previous conversation.

 _He promised not to touch me._

Of course, he'd only said he won't touch her with his hands, she didn't think he extended that vow to his sword. But, if he was a man of honor and given his response when she'd questioned it, he was, she might be able to believe he'd actually wouldn't hurt her. He'd had plenty of opportunities, given that she didn't know how long she'd been asleep for. If anything, he was making efforts to help her recover faster.

And despite currently being in the home of one of the most dangerous and powerful men in the world, Tamara hadn't felt safer in a long time. And that was saying something.

The last bandage was placed over the crescent mark on her neck and she paused then, pressing her palm flat against it before shaking her head and reaching for the dress. Whoever had owned it beforehand had much more generous female assets than she did. The chest and hips were quite loose, but there was a sash that she tightened around her waist that pulled some of the loose material in. She tucked the gold dagger into the small of her back once she'd secured the knot.

When Tamara took her first step, her foot caught the skirts edge and she crashed face first into the ground.

Evidently, the previous owner was also four inches taller than her.

After spending a few minutes groaning in place and rubbing her ribcage, she climbed back to her feet. It didn't hurt near as much as she thought it should, Tamara figured the medication was kicking in. Gathering up the silk cloth, she headed downstairs.

* * *

The blade slid over skin with a hiss. It hummed with desire to taste the lifeblood of its victim. Just one drop, that was all it wanted, one simple drop...

A sharp tap on the sink flicked off the short stubble and soap. Setting the razor aside, Mihawk patted his face, pleased by the now smooth skin. He'd been neglecting his grooming for the last few days. Normally he didn't worry much about it, as the isolation of his home meant he could forgo it for a time. But with his temporary guest _(and his pride at keeping his image)_ , a bit more maintenance was needed.

Walking out into his chambers, he glanced at partner _Yoru_. She hung elegantly on the wall, pristine as the day he'd first found her, fully cleaned of any gore from his encounter with the green haired swordsman. Pausing a moment, he rested a hand on the blue gem in the center. _Yoru_ warmed at the touch, vibrating slightly in greeting and pleasure at her masters attention.

"What have you to say about the Little Thing in our home?"

The massive sword hummed again, speaking in a language only a true swordsman could understand. Mihawk chuckled to himself before moving away, using the towel around his neck to wipe away a few stray drops of water that dripped down from his damp hair. It had been quite the ordeal to install the generator that powered the pipes to the castle, but the advantage of always having hot water made it worth it.

As he pulled out one of his standard white silk shirts, a distance keening bay filled with misery and torment flitted upon the air.

His back stiffened for a moment as the agony filled sound stirred unpleasant memories long buried in his mind. It had been a very long time since he'd heard a cry like that. Back when he was much younger and still in contact with Adrian...

Mihawk crushed that thought with a soft snarl and shoved his arms through the sleeves. The girl in the room below had been less trouble than he'd thought. For the most part, she took care of herself. Which was good, seeing as his vow of no contact remained steadfast. Rest and time had been the greatest factor in her recovery, if she continued, she'd likely be fully healed within three weeks.

He could do without the night terrors though. The painful screams she emitted while sleeping made even his famous apathy stir slightly.

Pushing the cuffs up to rest comfortably below his elbow, Mihawk started to tidy his room. He disliked his personal space being in disarray. As he moved about, a gentle tapping at the large window could be heard. The sound became insistent, constant and despite it, he ignored the noise till he'd finished. Finally, he turned and acknowledged the creature irritating him.

The messenger bird was perched on the outer window ledge and almost flew away at the steely glare aimed its way. Only the dedication and payment it had received made it remain in place. Mihawk opened the glass and the feathered animal extended its leg. He removed the rolled parchment, turning away at it flew off.

He regarded the curled letter, turning it to look at the familiar wax seal he hadn't seen in years. It was the third one he'd gotten this year. _He's getting rather desperate._

The thought passed through his mind and was brushed away. Without hesitation, he lifted the paper to the nearest candle, letting the flames catch and burn almost all the way down the paper before tossing the fiery scroll out the window. He closed the pane to block out the smell of smoke.

On the wall, _Yoru_ growled softly. Mihawk looked at her sharply, "Don't start again...I left that all behind long ago."

She went silent without further complaint. It was rare for the two to be in disharmony over anything. This continual rising issue was starting to cause problems between them. Minor problems, but it was still concerning. Mihawk sat in a high back chair and picked up a sealed bottle of wine. Popping the cork, he poured a glass and relaxed back, falling into a meditative state to calm his mind and spirit.

He lost track of time. He might have even fallen asleep for a bit. Not uncommon for him and it was still early on the island. As he purged all thoughts of the messenger bird away, the scent of frying meat tickled his nose, roused his mind to wakefulness and reminded him he hadn't eaten yet.

Now that was something he defiantly needed to investigate. Rising, he drained the glass and set it aside before heading for the door. Behind him, his partner for life vibrated in amusement as the door closed silently.

* * *

This house was absolutely massive.

Tamara had walked through several different rooms and backtracked the same paths again. And she was pretty sure she'd gotten lost a few times. The first place she'd gone was to the room she'd last seen Mihawk in. He wasn't there. She wasn't sure if she was glad about that or not, seeing as the thought of facing the Shichibukai made her heart rate jump several beats.

Eventually, Tamara located a huge dining room with a banquet table and several large chairs. The one at the head of the table was pushed out. A good sign, as dining rooms were generally close to kitchens. And after a bit more exploring, she did find the fabled room.

The cooking area was fully stocked, including a fridge that hummed with power, a pantry loaded with food and cupboards with all necessary utensils. She was less surprised this time when she tested the stove and found the burner ignited with flame at command. There was a French press coffeepot near the sink that looked like it'd been washed. Hunting around a bit, she found a bag of rich scented grounds that was half empty.

Biting her lip as uncertainty hit her, a habit she'd developed as a child that she still couldn't break, she glanced back at the doorway before starting to grab everything she needed. Setting a kettle to boil, she measured out the dark grinds and let the coffee seep for a few minutes. She'd forgotten how much she liked the drink as she poured a mug, adding a splash of cream and a spoonful of sugar to flavor it to her liking.

Taking a sip of the warm beverage happily, she heated a large frying pan and peeled off a few strips of fatty tuna fish bacon. The least she could do after everything Mihawk had done was cook breakfast for him. Maybe if she made a little too much, he might let her have the leftovers. As they cooked, Tamara opened the fridge, eyes scanning for signs of some eggs.

"Making yourself right at home, I see."

Shrieking in response at the deep voice, Tamara jumped backwards. And proceeded to step on the dress's edge again. Overbalanced, she flailed for a moment, loosing her grip on the cartoon she'd grabbed before toppling backwards. Stars danced in front of her eyes for a moment as she groaned in pain,

"Owwwww…."

Above her, the face of Mihawk appeared. She blinked up, still stunned from the fall. He'd somehow caught the carton before it'd hit the ground and was staring down at her, looking smug, regal and absolute terrifying at the same time. Tamara's face heated up in embarrassment, the aching of her body and pounding heart causing temporary insanity as she snapped without thinking,

"Bloody hell, were you re-incarnated as a ghost?! Don't do that!"

Then her brain caught up with her mouth and Tamara was absolutely convinced she was about to die.

Instead, Mihawk chuckled again, the deep rumble that sounded like it came from the very earth as he set the eggs on the counter and moved around her, taking out a mug and pouring himself a cup of the coffee she'd made, "I see you're feeling better. Or are looking for a death sentence. Which is it?"

"Ummm...well I..." Scrambling awkwardly to her feet, she took a few steps away from the Warlord, glancing at the cooking meat on the stove as she folded her hand behind her back, subtly grasping the daggers hilt and meekly replied, "I just thought I'd make you breakfast. As a way to thank you...for everything."

Tamara kept Mihawk in sight through her lashes, not able to bring herself to fully look at him and held her breath in anticipation. He had a newspaper tucked under his arm and took a healthy draw from the cup. Those intimidating golden eyes ran over her, and she shivered. It didn't feel sexual, more like an analytical scan, but having a male look at her in any way...it just creeped her out.

Finally he turned away, walking towards a smaller round table with chairs set up near the window of the kitchen, "Be sure to make enough for yourself. Can't have you becoming more of a Little Thing than you already are."

And that was that. Tamara stared for a moment as the Shichibukai sat down, open the paper, and proceeded to ignore her. Was he making fun of her? Maybe, but she wasn't going to say a damn thing about it. Unclenching her fingers from the blade in her back, she swallowed and turned back to the crisping bacon.

Glancing at Mihawk again, noting that he was a lot taller than she'd first thought, Tamara added five more strips to the pan before grabbing a bowl to scramble the eggs in.

* * *

The scent of cooking food was defiantly appealing. And she made a fine pot of coffee as well. Taking another swallow, Mihawk read up on the latest lie the World Government was spewing out. Nothing of particular note, but he liked to be informed of what was going on. The media was heavily edited by the time the prints got to the public, but it was still the best way to stay up to date on current events.

Studying his houseguest out of the corner of his eye as she flitted about the kitchen, he mentally measured her. He supposed most would consider her attractive enough, child-like as her appearance may be. Long blond hair, blue eyes and skin a shade paler than he'd expected, once the burns had healed. Short though, very much a small girl, barely reaching the middle of his chest.

His taste had always been towards the darker, exotic women with mystery and smoke in their gaze.

Turning back to the paper, Mihawk enjoyed the quiet sounds of the morning. The Navy was up in arms about some theft from one of their research facilities in the North Blue. A rookie pirate they were calling _'The Surgeon of Death'_ had waltzed out with an experimental submarine, leaving chaos as well as a huge loss of berries, and was joyriding around in it. His current bounty was set at $8,000,000.

Without looking up, he extended out his mug as his guest braved stepping closer to him. She filled his cup without a word and backed away. Having her move around and wait on him reminded him of the servants he'd had as a child. He was somewhat surprised that he didn't feel resentment about that, rather it was somewhat comforting and familiar.

A plate filled with food slide onto the table and silverware was set near it. Almost shyly, she placed her hand on the chair across from him and waited. He set aside the paper and waved a hand in a careless gesture before beginning to eat. He had to forcible prevent himself from widening his eyes slightly. It was good, very good in fact. He'd rarely eaten a meal quite as well made outside a high end restaurant.

Mihawk would have eaten the meal even if she'd brunt the food to an unrecognisable crisp, as he was a true seafarer, but it was a very pleasant surprise to have such a flavorful breakfast. He continued to flip through the paper as he ate, feeling the girl glance at him and look away. She kept biting her lip. After the third time she did this, he finally spoke,

"Say what on your mind, Little Thing."

He saw her jump briefly, clearly not expecting him to be the first to speak. Hesitating, she finally responded, "Tamara...my names Tamara. How long have I been asleep?"

"Four days." _Tamara_...He tried to think of what region of the world used that kind of name, then decided he didn't care.

"Oh..."

Silence descended again. Mihawk saw her take a bite from the bacon then frown at her plate. She still had half the food on it, despite the small amount she served for herself. Having finished his meal and pushed the plate aside, he commented blandly, "You should listen to your body. The subtle signals often are often more important than the obvious ones. You'll make yourself ill if your force more on you system then it can handle."

She looked up at him and then down to her plate again, "I won't waste food." His respect for her rose again and he crooked a finger, "Nor will I. Give it here."

The plate slide across the table to him before she rested her chin on her hands, still frowning unhappily, "I should be able to eat that much, its less than I normally have."

Mihawk guessed that before she'd washed up on shore, she hadn't suffered from lack of food. Interesting, but not so much that he wanted to question her on it, "Being force to survive on meager rations shrinks the stomach and forces the body to rely on smaller portions. Make yourself eat a slightly larger amount at each meal, your body will adjust eventually."

She nodded in response and took a sip of her coffee, "Hmm...Guess that makes sense."

He finished the partly eaten meal and pushed the plate aside. Without a word, she rose and gathered the dishes, taking them to the sink and starting to run water to clean up. She filled her cup and offered him a warm up. He accepted.

Again, a near comfortable silence filled the kitchen. Finished with the news, Mihawk contented himself with looking out the window, studying the distance curled hills.

"May I ask you something?"

"If you must."

"Why did you help me? Are helping me?" Mihawk paused in thought, eyes looking to her as she submerged her hands into the soapy water. She flinched slightly and opened her mouth again, "I mean...you don't have to answer if you don't want. I just thought..."

"Don't." She froze, fear jumping into her aura and he heard her breath catch, "Don't backpedal. You didn't do anything wrong."

It was a good question. He was a bit unsure of the answer himself. Looking back out the window, he responded almost flippantly,

"Prepping my own meals is irritating. You seemed skilled at it, you shall continue while you stay here."

She lifted her eyes and stared at him for a while before showing a small amount of the courage that flared from time to time, "You had no idea I was a good cook. For all you know, I could've brunt your kitchen down."

Mihawk hid a smirk behind the mug as he took a sip of the coffee. Spirited indeed, at least when she got a bit more comfortable. He figured she was a bit more convinced he wasn't going to kill her, seeing as she was risking snipping back at him, but she was still edgy. Though it was hard to tell if that was because of who he was or what he was.

"Ture enough, but you will continue regardless."

She nodded back. He was pleased with that, at least he'd have some well made meals while she invaded his space. But she was still looking at him, waiting for an answer. After a few minutes in thought he finally spoke honestly,

"I prefer solitude. It's why I chose this island as my home. However, it can get rather listless and dull after a while. So from time to time, a bit of a change is in order. You just happen to stumble in while I was in one of those moments, rare and fleeting as they are."

Sapphire blinked owlishly, "You saved me from killer monkeys, treated my wounds, gave me clothes, a weapon, food and medicine and are currently letting me stay under your roof...on a whim?"

An apt enough explanation. He gave a slight shrug that might be translated as a _'yes'_ and she hummed a response he was sure she didn't mean for him to hear and made him fight down another chuckle,

"I like the first reason better..."

* * *

 **And that'll be it for now. Hoping everyone liked the first semi bonding moment between Tamara and Mihawk. And yes, I am portraying Mihawk to have a bit of a sense of humor, however dry it might be.**

 **I also forget if currency in the One Piece is Berries or Bellies. If anyone has any comments on this, please drop a line.**

 **Thanks again all and feel free to comment in reviews or send me a PM.**


	4. First Contact

**Hello again everyone.**

 **So this chapter may be a bit shorter than the others as lot of it will be written in past tense, as time has passed. I hope my grammer is alright in it, and please feel free to correct me if I screw up.**

 **As always, I own nothing and wish I did.**

 **Thanks again all.**

 **Update July 28, 2019**

 **As per a few requests and due to the fact that when I first posted this chapter, I was still quite new to writing on Fanfiction, I've adjusted my authors notes to include this.**

 ***TRIGGER WARNING!* This chapter has scenes of murder, violence and implied rape. You have been warned and if you wish to skip this, do not read the _Italian_ font. Thank you for your consideration. **

* * *

As the days passed, a semi regular routine developed between them.

Comfortable wasn't a word she would use to describe her current situation, but it was the closest she could put into words. Tamara was now convinced Mihawk wasn't going to randomly slice her throat. Especially since he'd been true to his word. He went out of his way on some occasions not to make physical contact with her, including the one incident where he'd actually dodged to the side when she'd stumbled while walking and almost fell on him.

She'd gotten a mild scolding and a mocking smirk tossed at her for that. Shortly after, Tamara had hacked off the excessive cloth from her dress till her ankles were visible to avoid that problem again.

With the dark skies of Kuraigana making it extremely difficult to tell the time, Tamara had to rely on the few spaced out antique clocks in the castle. Not the most reliable source, so for the most part, she made her own schedule. Mornings consisted of a quick shower to clean her healing wounds, rebandaging of those that needed it and heading to the kitchen.

Tamara had quickly learned the fastest way to find Mihawk was to start cooking.

It didn't seem to matter what time she started or what she was making, somehow the man could tell when she was preparing a meal and miraculously appeared. Often times scaring the hell out of her in the process.

He seemed to take great delight in making her jump. She was partly convinced he did it just to get a rise from her.

The castle was even larger than she'd originally thought. The first few days of her stay were dedicated to pure exploration, as with only two people in the house it fell to one's own self to find entertainment. Tamara could tell that Mihawk only used a few of the rooms, as most were coated in layers of dust and lost to time. But she still wanted to look around and know where things were.

She'd come across three rooms she knew instantly she was **not** allowed to enter without permission.

The obvious first one was the Shichibukai personal chambers. Tamara had curiously opened what she thought was a random door, like the half dozen she'd opened before, briefly seen a massive four poster bed with scarlet curtains and an oversized gleaming curved black blade resting on the wall. She'd promptly slammed the door shut and ran full speed down the stairs, hoping to all the deities she could name that Mihawk didn't notice her intrusion.

Nothing had been said at dinner, and Tamara hadn't gone near that door since.

The other room was a large office space with a desk and a Den Den Snail set up, as well as filing cabinets and shelving units. Tamara guess that was were her host did most of his Shichibukai work for the Navy and Government. It didn't look well used, but she avoided it nonetheless.

She didn't actually know what was in the last room, as it was the only door in the whole castle that was locked, and was deep in the lower levels, near the dungeons that totally freaked her out with horrible memories. Tamara didn't ask about that door and didn't want to know what was behind it.

Throughout the day, the two didn't usually interact. Sometimes she'd stumble upon him reading in the library or napping on a sofa _(of which she would promptly back out the room as quietly as possible)_ , but during meals or in the evenings, Mihawk sometimes stayed around and talked to her or waved her to follow him to the lounge area. As of yet, he still hadn't call her by her name or asked her to tell him what had happened to her, but he did hold conversations with her.

And there in lay a new discovery about the Warlord. He actually seemed to have moments where he enjoyed being around her. Though with his constant serious expression, it was damn near impossible to read his moods.

Mihawk was a seasoned and travelled man. You didn't become a Privateer of the World Government by staying in one place. He'd sometimes reminisce about some of his past adventures while she listen spellbound and captivated by the tales. Other times she'd tell him about a new room she'd found, or ask his opinion on a book she was reading. And perhaps the biggest indicator that the swordsman didn't completely resent her presence in his home was when he willing shared his prized wine with her.

That had been a very interesting afternoon. Tamara had been prepping the evening meal early, wanting to add extra tenderness to the meat and gone actively hunting for Mihawk. Luck had been with her and she'd found him lounging in the drawing room. She'd politely asked if he had any wine that she was allowed to cook with. He'd stood from his chair, led her to the large chilly cellar and massive collection of bottles, and asked what flavors she wanted.

She'd confessed to knowing nothing about wine, simply stating that her Mother had taught her that it made a good solution to marinate meat in.

Thus began a long conversation where she'd learned about the growth, harvesting, fermenting, casting and bottling of the liquid Mihawk so loved. It had been a fascinating experience, especially since he'd almost encouraged her inquisitive questions, showing her different sections of the cellar, explaining various vintages, flavors, textures and numerus other things with more than a slight hint of pride at his astronomically expensive collection.

She'd gotten light headed when he'd off-handily commented that the bottle she was looking at was worth $2,000,000 berries.

By the time they'd finished talking, there hadn't been enough time to marinate the Sea King roast and it was postponed for the following nights dinner. But over the thick horned-shark steaks she'd seasoned in its place, Tamara had looked up in surprise when the yellow eyed man had set a crystal wine glass in front of her and poured a portion of his current bottle into it. He'd followed it with a brief, almost order of telling him what she'd learned.

Since then, Mihawk would occasionally offer her a glass at dinner.

All in all, she was starting to feel almost...well...comfortable in the ghostly castle on the isolated island. And it was a very painful knowing this current serene sensation was going to end soon.

Sighing to herself as she sat back, resting the book she'd been reading in her lap, Tamara tried to push away the negative thought. But it persisted. The dress was fitting better now. The hips were a bit more snug, as she'd gained weight from days of consuming good food and resting well. Bruises had faded to near nothingness, her ribs were only slightly tender now.

And with her healing status came the uncomfortable knowledge that her stay with the Shichibukai was coming to a close.

Tamara habitually bit her lip. She'd come to almost feel safe around the famed man. _Almost_ being the key word as Mihawk, for all his gentlemanly actions, was still dangerous as hell. He was always courteous, if not demining, and she'd hadn't felt truly threatened by him in a long while.

He could still make her tremble if he looked at her a little too hard though. The simple fact that he was a man dredged up dark emotions she was trying to deal with, but it had nothing to do with how he personally treated her. Letting her head fall back against the chaise lounge she reclined on, Tamara stared up at the high libray ceiling and muttered softly,

"I don't want to leave..."

The whisper was lost in the empty room. She blinked back moisture from her eyes and picked up the book again. Movement caught her eye and she turned to see what it was. Blinking in surprise and standing up, Tamara moved closer to the glass as she saw Mihawk walking outside. He wore his standard white shirt and dark pants, but also had on what looked like the cloak he'd let her borrow when she'd first come.

Displayed proudly on his back was the massive Black Sword he was so famous for.

Tamara held her breath, stepping to the side and partly hiding behind the curtains. He moved out into the large courtyard and paused, seeming to think over something before unsheathing his blade. It was huge, bigger than him in fact, and he wielded the weapon with such ease and grace. As she stared, Mihawk's stance shifted and he started to move.

The actions were beautiful...absolutely awe-inspiriting. Man and blade flowed together as one, movements smooth and in perfect harmony. Then the steps changed, getting quicker and faster, violence and deadly intent filling each move. Flawless elegance combined with savage bloodlust, a dance of life and death the likes of which poets and preachers could only dream of.

And she couldn't have looked away if someone was holding a knife to her throat.

* * *

She was less intrusive than he'd originally thought she'd be.

He still didn't know if he liked having the Little Thing around, but she'd made things a bit more lively. Honestly, he'd thought by now she'd have annoyed him to the point that he'd have frighten her into enclosing herself in her room till she was healed. But she fit herself into his home surprisingly well. He didn't remember the last time the castle was this clean. Actually, it probably hadn't been so tidy since the original occupants lived in it.

Mihawk had been resting happily in one of his preferred napping spots when he'd been woken by the scent of lemon and vinegar. Thinking that his guest was cooking something again, he'd followed his nose to find Tamara standing on a chair and cursing at the large diamond chandelier in the dining room while swatting a damp cloth at it, stating that it was going to be cleaned whether it wanted to or not.

She'd almost fallen off the chair when he'd told her there was a ladder in the storeroom closet.

It was amusing to him to see the sparks flare in her eyes when he startled her, but he did deliberately walk a bit more noisily sometimes when he headed towards a room she was in. When he felt like it.

Swinging Yoru in a downward sweep designed to cleave an opponent in two, he let his mind roam as his body walked through the Katas with a practised ease.

The rich food was highly enjoyable. While he was fully capable of making his own meals, lack of interest in the task, as well as his own laziness, meant most of the time, he tended to dine on preserved or quick fix food. Having the consistence, well-made nutrients was spoiling him slightly, causing the barest layer of poundage to be noted in the mirror this morning. Hence why he'd chosen to run through a few maneuvers to work off the excess flesh.

The fact that he had a captive audience didn't hurt either. He was still a prideful man and did enjoy flaunting a bit. Plus, Yoru was singing in delight at being used, even if it was only in practice.

She liked to listen when he talked. Mihawk could get anyone to listen to him if he wanted. All it too was a hand on Yoru's hilt and a steely gaze and anyone would hang on each word he spoke with rapt attention. But he didn't need to with Tamara. She actively paid attention and interacted when he felt like speaking without any form of cohesion. Then there were the times when she sensed that silence was needed and moved quieter around him or left him alone all together.

He wasn't if she'd learned to partial read him, or if she was simply follow her instincts, but whichever it was, it was gratifying that he didn't need to constantly tell her when his social tolerance was reached. Shanks could take a few lessons from her.

Though the interactions they'd had, he'd learned more about her than perhaps she'd been willing, or aware, to share. Tamara had told him that is was her Mother that had taught her to cook. When she spoke of her female parent, it was in the past tense. Currently, she'd yet to say anything about her Father or any other family member. During some of the conversations they'd had, he'd come to think she was from the South Blue, as her eyes lit up in recognition when he talked of his travels to that ocean.

Finishing with a long distance slash that split a chunk of rock taller than him in two, Mihawk exhaled slowly, pleased by the slight exertion he felt, and straightened, re-sheathing Yoru on his back. He ignored the blue eyes watching him from the upper window, looking out instead into the distance forest. The Humandrill leader mimicked him, sliding the replica sword into place before fading into the trees.

Turning away, he walked around the house, mostly in boredom. The girl was nearly recovered now. And with that he was ready to send her on her way, wherever that might be and return to his isolation. Mihawk ignored the slight clenching in his chest at the thought and continued on his path.

* * *

 _The clippers snipped the thick stem at 45 degree angle. A dollop of glue sealed the wound and the yellow rose joined the rest in the basket. Gathering the woven container, she walked towards the cheerful, white plaster house. Opening the door she called out,_

 _"Papa? I cut the flowers you asked for, where do you want them?"_

 _A strange scent was in the air, disrupting the sweet fragrance of the blossoms beside her,_  
 _"Papa?"_

 _Red...there was red on the wall...red on the floor..._

 _"PAPA!"_

 _Cold surrounded, cloth torn away, metal pressed against her skin...And that face...she'd trusted him...and he laughed cruelly as other hands groped at her, mocking her as she struggled in futile panic...nails torn skin...fingers squeezed harshly...multiple male voices chortled and jeered around her..._

 _"Pretty little girly..."_

 _"So soft...lets make her scream..."_

 _"Can I have her mouth?..."_

 _"Do what you want...except this...only I am allowed this...hold her still..."_

 _She recognised the last voice and her blood ran cold...the chill of the floor pressed against her front...callused hands gripped her hips...then the pain...the agony of alien intrusion as his voice faded in her ear..._

 _"...blood...pure..."_

* * *

The deafening sound of screaming woke her up. It took a few seconds to realise it was her own voice she heard. Struggling wildly out of the blankets tangled around her, Tamara forcibly clamped her hands over her mouth to muffled the whimpers, rocking back and forth in her bed.

 _A dream...just a dream...it was just a dream...I'm not there anymore...I got away..._

Tamara repeated this mantra over and over. She was shaking and there was a layer of sweat on her skin. Gasping jaggedly, she torn off the male scented shirt she wore as a nightgown, unable to handle it and stumbled to the shower, turning the water on so hot it almost scalded her. Finally, her panting started to slow and she could think again. Tamara stood from her knees and turned the water down to a more reasonable temperature.

Finishing the shower, she stepped out. Steam filled the room and fogged up the mirror. Brushing a hand over the reflective surface, she looked at herself. There was only one bandage left...the one on her right shoulder. Fingernails picked at the sticky edges and peeled it away, reveling a lighter white, crescent mark against her skin.

Fully healed at last.

For a few moments, Tamara debated covering the mark again. But it would do no good, Mihawk was far to observant to be fooled by a false bandage. And he'd said she could stay till she was better. And now she was. Which meant...she was going to be leaving. That was probably why her nightmares were coming back after days of not having any. Tears filled her eyes and fell to the counter. She rubbed at her face, struggling to hold back the sobs.

Taking in a deep breath, she took a bit to dry herself off and get dressed before heading downstairs to cook breakfast. Regardless of her personal demons, she still had a Warlord to feed.

Mihawk arrived near the middle of prepping the meal. Tamara heard the clacking of heels on the stone floor announcing his arrival and poured a cup of coffee. She'd murmured a soft greeting that wasn't returned and turned back to the stove. Breakfast had passed in quiet silence, neither party wanting to talk. Part of her was on edge the whole time, waiting for him to spring the moment. It didn't come and he left without a word.

She'd passed the day by polishing the silver tea set she liked to use and browsing the library for a new book to read.

Being careful not to splash the boiling water on her skin, Tamara tipped the sliced potatoes into the pot. They'd need some time to soften. Checking on the low simmering salmon fillets, Tamara added some extra cilantro. Mihawk liked more heat to his food than her, she'd make her portion afterwards. Satisfied nothing was going to burn or boil over, she grabbed plates and eating utensils, swiped a damn cloth over the dusty bottle and headed into the dining room to set the table.

It came as no surprise that Mihawk was already sitting at the head with a glass of wine already half gone. Golden eyes looked up at her as she entered and Tamara fought down a shiver, "Good evening, Mihawk-san."

"Hnn..." That sound was a common response from him. He picked up the bottle she set down near him, inspecting it for a moment, "Interesting choice."

"Is it?" A slight incline in his head that most wouldn't consider a nod,

" _Phylloxera_ , a vintage from the East Blue. The island of Meriling has rich soil, but suffers frequent storms, making the growth of the vines sparse and unpredictable. Those times that the vineyards manage to grow a proper harvest is worth the wait. The grapes are quite tart and are fermented with blackberries to soften it. It meshes very well, difficult as it is to make."

She'd gotten into a habit of picking a bottle at random to offer the Shichibukai at dinner. Sometimes he opened it, other times he set it aside, depending on his mood at the time. Always he gave a small story about the vintage she picked, expanding her knowledge more. That was the main reason she did it.

Mihawk filled his glass and moved the empty bottle to her side of the table as she finished setting out the plates. Tamara gabbed it as she headed back to the kitchen.

When she came back out, arms loaded with platers of food, a filled crystal glass was by her plate. Mihawk rose once she finished setting out the platters and pulled out her chair. The first time he'd done this, Tamara had partially frozen. Now she took the seat without hesitation. After they'd both filled their plates, she took the first sip of the wine.

"Oh...its delightful. I think I taste honey." Humming to herself, she studied the glass.

"Very good. The vintners of Meriling cast _Phylloxera_ in timmon barrels, which gives subtle textures of sweetness."

Smiling down at her plate at the compliment, Tamara broke off a piece of the moist meat and swallowed before commenting, "Does Kuraigana get many storms like Meriling?"

"Not to the same degree. During the late fall, it can rain for days on end, but there's no risk of an Aqua Laguna."

"What's that?"

The evening passed by with pleasant conversation between them. Tamara almost relaxed at the familiar atmosphere. As she gathered the last of the dishes, Mihawk stood with both glasses in one hand and spoke over his shoulder as he walked away, "Join me in the lounge when you're finished, Little Thing."

"Yes, Mihawk-san. I'll be along shortly."

Night had fallen and the candles in the castle had been mostly extinguished. From the doorway, the glow of a green colored fire flickered. She took in a deep breath and entered, padding quietly over to the armchair angled towards the hearth. Sitting, she tucked her legs up under her to keep her bare feet warm. It was also the most comfortable position for her. Her glass was refilled and sitting on the low table.

"How exactly is it that women can bend in such ways? One would think you have no bones."

She muffled a giggle at the statement behind her hand. Sometimes thought Mihawk might have a sense of humor, but it was next to impossible to tell. He might be dead serious. Actually, he probably was. Tamara settled back against the cushioned seat,

"Maybe we don't, I knew a girl that could bend her wrist backwards. She ended up joining a travelling circus-boat, I think. Might have been a pirate ship, I can't remember completely."

Mihawk took a drink from his glass, "Hmmm...Part of Buggy's crew perhaps?"

Tamara tilted her head to the side curiously, mimicking the Warlord and picking up her glass, "Possibly….Then again, I don't know who that is."

"I wasn't expecting you to."

She shifted and leaned towards Mihawk as he spoke about the Clown Pirate of the East Blue and his strange ideals. When he'd spoke of the Bara Bara no Mi, she risked interrupting the story, "He can't be cut?"

"Correct...though he's easy enough to defeat. For all his showmanship, he is horrendously weak."

Tamara gave a light laugh, finishing her wine and setting the glass aside, relaxing back in the comfy chair. Mihawk opened a new bottle, but didn't offer her any from it. Sipping the new vintage, his next words stuttered her calm state to a halt,

"Your wounds have healed, I see."

Tamara's heart dropped and she pulled her knees closer, "Yes..."

Silence fell between them. She stared into the fire and waited. After a few minutes, he finally responded, "I have business to attend to at one of the nearby islands. You'll accompany me."

She felt her throat dry up. It had been expected, she'd been trying to prepare herself for this moment. This wasn't her home, she was just a guest. And she had to leave, had to learn to live on her own again. Taking in a breath, pulling what courage she could, Tamara heard her voice speak against her will,

"Of course." He tilted his head, eyes angling towards her as though expecting her to say something else. She didn't.

"Be ready to leave by first light."

"I will be...By your leave, Mihawk-san?" The elder male inclined his head and she rose from the chair, amazed her shaking legs managed to carry her to her room. She prayed her nightmares stayed at bay tonight.

* * *

The smell of smoke and blood lingered on the coat. It was a symbol of his status, his skill, the fight and sacrifice he'd done to achieve his place in the world. To him, it was victory. On the wall, _Yoru_ hummed in agreement, excited about leaving and the possibility of combat.

Tucking his pants into his boots and securing the buckles, Mihawk stood. Glancing at the floor, he saw a warm, gold glow through the stone barrier. She was awake and already waiting for him in the entryway. He wondered briefly if she'd even slept, he heard no screaming during the night. Ignoring the passing thought, he started to reach for the wide brimmed plumed hat and paused.

Frowning briefly before schooling his face, Mihawk stepped over to a rarely used foot locker. Opening the chest, he rummaged through the contents and pulled out a pair of worn black boots still dusted with dirt. Turning them around, he tried to remember why he'd kept a set of footwear too small for him. Then his memories stirred and he recalled.

 _Loguetown...I wore these at Rogers execution._ It felt almost like a lifetime ago, standing in the rain and watching the blades fall. Shaking off the thought, he closed the lid, sealing away the past once more. Slipping on his hat, he sheathed Yoru at his back and walked out of the room. As he reached the top of the stairs and looked down at Tamara, he saw her eyes widen and fear slipped into her aura. Fear of him.

Mihawk didn't allow himself to be affected by that.

Descending the stairs, he dropped the shoes near her, causing her to jump and look at them, "I don't intend to carry you. Be quick, the tide will be out soon."

"Yes, Mihawk-san." He opened the double doors with one hand as she awkwardly slipped the boots on her feet. They were still far too large, but it would be sufficient enough a barrier to get her to the docks.

He was forced to slow his pace a lot so she could keep up. The, heavy undergrowth, oversized shoes and her natraully smaller gait had her stumbling a lot, but she didn't fall. Surprising, given she was somewhat accident prone. Frowning minutely again, he wondered briefly when he'd come to know that about her. A few times he paused to hold a low hanging branch out of the way.

Partway through the walk, he was forced to stop and turn back towards her when her steps ceased. She was staring wide eye at the distance pack of Humandrills that had been following them. Blue eyes looked at him quickly,

"They...won't do anything...right?"

"They won't dare, come along." She quickly trotted over, almost falling on her face. He tried not to smirk in amusement.

Finally, the dense forest thinned and the sand of the beach crunched under his feet. At this point, he fell back to his normal pace and Tamara was quickly left behind. Though he made sure to keep her within earshot as he stepped onto the dock. His Coffin Boat floated in the water, in the same place he'd left it. But for this journey, he would need more space than the one man craft.

On the other side was a much larger vessel, one with a covered center and a single mast sail. It was secured with two mooring lines and Mihawk nimbly stepped onto the deck. He started prepping the ship for sail and heard the Little Thing make it to the dock. She stopped and kicked off the too large boots, grabbing them as she quickly jogged to the end. For a few moments, she looked at the gap between the ships prow and the wooden platform.

Sensing that she was about to do something stupid that might cause injury, Mihawk yanked on the rope. The gap vanished and he planted a boot on the ships edge to stabilize the rocking craft, lifting a hand upwards in offer to Tamara. She jolted and stared at him, eyes sliding to the open palm and teeth pressing on her lip. He waited.

After a minute, she slowly raised her arm. Her fingertips trembled, but she reached forward and slid her palm against his. Her hand was slightly callused, but still soft. Carefully, he closed his hand, not applying too much pressure and supported her as she jumped down onto the deck. She pulled away a bit too quickly, stepping back a bit.

As he turned to loosen the mooring lines, he heard her murmur lowly, "Thank you...Mihawk-san."

The clenching in his chest came again. He brushed it aside and shoved away from the dock. The sail unfurled and the ocean grasped the ship, pulled them out into the Grand Line.

* * *

 **And they're off. To where, who knows as yet. I am hoping that I managed to convey a devolving tolerate/starting friendship between Tamara and Mihawk. As this is a slow burn romance fic, things will progress as time passes.**

 **As I read this fic, I realise I may have to increase the rating at some point. Either that or post separate sections with the more R rated scenes.**

 **Feel free to comment and review. Thanks all, your the best.**


	5. Bittersweet Goodbye

**Hello again everyone.**

 **This story is coming together much better than I thought. I'm truly enjoying it and still have ideas for the chapters.**

 **A special thanks to Kmbrun for her constant reviews. Even just getting one positive comment on new chapters keeps me smiling and want to carry on.**

 **I realised after I finished that most of this chapter is in Tamara's viewpoint. I'll try to compensate by making the next chapter mostly Mihawk.**

 **As always, feel free to comment or drop a line to me.**

* * *

"What kind of a name is Redemption Island?"

She didn't bother trying to cover the skeptical tone of her voice. Sitting on top of a wooden crate, Tamara leaned her elbows back on the ships edge and kicked her bare feet carelessly, tilting her head back to absorb more of the suns rays while staring over the ships bow. The skies above were a crisp, Amarillo blue with fluffy white clouds and the wind carried the sound of sloshing waves that was almost peaceful.

"A sanctioned one, the island was once known for its rather...colorful business dealings. When the elected leaders voted for the lands to join the ranks of the World Government, it was required for the countries name to be change. To better fit into the idealism of their new partnership."

Mihawk's tone of voice could have frozen the ocean itself. Tamara didn't look over at him, knowing his ire wasn't directed at her (thankfully), but she still shifted uncomfortably. From her talks with him, she knew he cared little about the ruling force of the seas and their goals. It made her wonder why he'd accepted the position of Shichibukai, but she had yet to summon the courage to ask him that.

Currently, he was standing at the small helm of the ship, steering the vessel with one hand and occasionally shifting his gaze around, looking for signs of trouble on the ocean she couldn't begin to understand.

"So did the people on the island clean up their acts? There's no more dirty dealings going on?"

A tsk sound came from the Warlord, "Shadows and secrets linger in every society, no matter how they try to appear. But yes, for the most part, its considered a relatively safe harbor."

Sensing that Mihawk was in one of his rare, chatty moods, Tamara kept talking, "I suppose it doesn't hurt that the landmass gets you as a visitor from time to time."

"Hnn…I don't offer any protection to them."

"I know, but just the fact that your home is nearby would deter some activity, I imagine."

"Or increase it, depending on what you refer to." She turned her eyes back to him, brows furrowing a bit, "Huh?"

"Kuraigana Island is difficult to find and harder to traverse inland, due to the Humandrills. Those seeking my head often have to wait till I chose to leave in order procure a challenge, feeble as they might be."

That made sense, god knew she hadn't meant to stumble upon the gloomy shores. But now that she was away from it, back in the sunshine and non blood scented air, Tamara found herself longing to be back on the misty isle. There was a certain charm and peacefulness she'd grown accustomed too during her stay there. Swallowing down the feeling of nostalgia, she flashed a small smile at the Warlord,

"I imagine its irritating when that happens."

"Quite, though my status as a Shichibukai generally ensures that only stronger opponents step forward."

Well, that answered one question she'd been thinking about.

They'd been sailing on the open water for four days now. Tamara hadn't spent this much time in close proximity to Mihawk since her arrival and knowing that he like to be alone, she'd made sure to slip inside the covered storage area frequently. The ship was so small that they could easily carry a normal conversation on deck no matter where either party stood. The inside area was mostly empty barrels, crates and food stores, with a low collapsible cot in one corner.

That had been where she was when Mihawk had knocked on the door and ordered her out, stating they were going to be arriving soon. Now she was scanning the horizon, looking for signs of the island. Survival instinct told her to get information on the place that would be her new home, so she'd breeched the subject with the swordsman, much as she really didn't want to.

"So what's the main source of business that Redemption Island promotes now?"

"Exports mostly. They're quite famous for the coffee and tea plants grown on the inland farms." She perked up at that news. A farming community, she might be able to fit into a place like that, "You get your coffee from here?"

"Among other things."

Tamara opened her mouth to ask more questions and cut off the words when Mihawk moved towards the mast, fiddling with the rigging and starting to furl the sail. Turning back to look out at the open ocean, she saw a dark form starting to get larger on the horizon. The island looked to be mostly flatland with a few rolling hills further inland. It looked to be fairly small, but it was hard to tell at this distance.

Nervous energy and trepidation started to stir in her stomach. Shifting forward, she slid her hand to the small of her back and felt the jeweled dagger resting snugly against her spine. It had become a security blanket for her, she never went anywhere without it. Mihawk hadn't asked for it back and Tamara couldn't bring herself to return it.

Confident it wasn't slipping, she stood up. The rocking of the boat made her wobble and grip the edge of the ship. Sea legs was something she defiantly didn't possess. Then again, Tamara had never intended to travel on the ocean. Wooden buildings, streets and moving people started to come into view. There were other vessels nearby and with Mihawk walking around on deck, doing whatever was necessary to prep for docking, she heard startled and terrified sounds from the ships before they steered away.

It was ironic that she found that amusing, considering a few weeks ago she'd reacted the same way.

As the ship smoothly moved alongside a long dock, several people scrambled around. All of them gave a deep, respectable bow. Most stayed that way. Mihawk ignored them and tossed ropes to the attendances to secure. Once the boat was pressed against the wooden platform, he stepped off.

Waiting till he'd moved aside, Tamara lifted the edge of her skirt and prepared to follow. Long, slightly tanned digits came into her vision. Looking up, she saw Mihawk once more extending a hand down to her.

Swallowing, she slid her fingers against his palm. His skin was warm and his grip strong, though still loose enough she could pull away if she chose to. It should have terrified her, being touched by him. Instead, there was a sense of comfort and security. Tamara stepped onto the dock and he released her hand before she could pull away. Spinning on the balls of his feet, he briskly walked towards the end.

Pausing as she tried to calm her racing heart, Tamara jolted suddenly and ran to catch up, falling in a step behind him.

* * *

An elder man with grey hair waited at the end of the dock. Two young men flanked him. All were bowed so low they were almost doubled over. Mihawk paused before the trio. Hisao was the towns mayor and on his rare stops to the island, it was always this man who greeted him Which suited him well, as it meant many of the menial errands were done without needing him attention.

The small senior man rose slightly, "Welcome back, Shichibukai Hawkeye-sama. Ariedale City is once more honored by your visit. How may our humble town serve you today?"

Mihawk ignored the simpering, speaking briskly, "The normal supplies will suffice." He reached into his coat and held out a folded piece of parchment to the elected leader, "Add these items to the hold as well. I will remain for a single day. No more."

"Of course, Shichibuki Hawkeye-sama. A room at the Emerald Shore has already been arranged. Should any other trivial tasks be needed, we are at your service. Please enjoy your stay, Shichibukai Hawkeye-sama." Hisao handed the paper to the boy on his left. Without a word, the young lad backed away and turned, quickly running down the street.

Mihawk passed by the group without pause, confident his orders would be carried out to the letter. The streets were less crowed by the docks, his arrival to the city usually resulted in many people fleeing inside to avoid the risk of angering him. Hearing bare feet slap on the ground behind his right shoulder reminded him that he wasn't alone. She'd left his boots behind on the ship. Which was fine, the paved streets of Ariedale wouldn't cut her feet, though she might step on a few rocks.

The curious sensation in his chest was passed off as annoyance.

Reaching the open marketplace, which was still quite busy, Mihawk paused and looked around. Conversation and activity paused for a minute, then carried on again in an almost hushed atmosphere. Turning, he looked down at the girl standing an arms length away. She was glancing around nervously, but with interest and her arms were folded primly in her lap. Sensing his attention, her head inclined to meet his eyes. It occurred to him that she was one of the few people that could hold his gaze for any length of time.

He brushed aside the thought that he was pleased about that.

Reaching into his coat once more, Mihawk pulled out a black leather billfold and held it out to her. Blue eyes shifted and looked at the item, blinking in a bit of confusion. After a few moments, he grew irritated and opened his mouth to order her to take it. She beat him to it,

"No."

"Pardon?" His eyes narrowed slightly at the defiant tone and she flinched but didn't back away as he'd been expecting, "I said no. I don't need it. I don't want it. You've done enough for me already. So...no."

Gold eyes stared at her for a moment, secretly both impressed and annoyed by her bravado, "You have nothing, Little Thing. Consider it payment for your services at the castle if you wish."

"I have my life, Mihawk-san. My life and my will to live it. So long as I have that, I don't need anything else." Before he could snarl back a response, she took a step back and bowed to him before straightening. A beaming smile that made her close her eyes lit her face,

"Thank you for everything. Take care of yourself, Mihawk-san."

And with those parting words, the blond girl that had literally fallen into his life, turned and calmly walked away. He stared at her back as she dodged a group of shoppers and disappeared around a corner.

On his back, _Yoru_ vibrated hard. Mihawk felt his weight shift forward slightly, almost in preparation to take a step after her. Then he stopped himself and tucked the wallet back into his coat, still reeling a bit from the conversation. Her words hit him hard. This girl...this women who's lost everything, suffered horrors beyond reason, had been swept unwilling from her home, and all she was concerned with was his health and wellbeing.

She reminded him of Shanks. Of the red haired buffoon, with his unending enthusiasm and ever positive outlook, always moving forward no matter what happened. So jaded had he become from his experiences in the world, he'd nearly forgotten the simple joy in just living, just being alive.

Mihawk forced himself to turn and continue to his destination. A rare flower like her needed sun and freedom, staying near his darkness would only stunt her growth. He ignored the protest of his partner and pushed aside the coiling in his chest.

For some reason he couldn't identify, it felt wrong that she'd been the one to walk away first.

* * *

Once she was confident she'd walked far enough away that Mihawk couldn't see her, Tamara stopped and let herself fall back against a nearby building, sinking down to the ground.

That had been even harder than she'd imagined.

It had taken everything she'd had to not bite her lip and give away her true feelings. She'd been terrified at the thought of leaving his side, being alone again. But it was what he wanted, it was why he'd brought her here. And it was beyond selfish of her to refuse his wishes after all he'd done for her. Sniffling, Tamara brushed her hands over her eyes, wiping away the tears and saw her wriggling bare toes through the watery vision. Shoes...the first thing she needed was shoes.

"Miss...are you alright?"

A new voice made her jump and Tamara looked up at a young, dark haired man that was staring at her in concerns. He started to reach forward to touch her, possibly to help her up and his words of comfort were lost as panic hit her.

"Don't! Don't touch me! Stay away!" Scrambling back, she struggled to her feet, hand whipping to the dagger in her back as the man's eyes flew open wide and he backed away,

"Miss? It's alright, I was only trying to help. Are you alright? Is something wrong?"

Breathing heavily and feeling her fingers start to go numb from her grip on the hilt, she slid against the wall, backing into the alley. She heard her voice quiver, but managed to response, "I-I'm fine...thank you...I'll be alright."

Tamara turned and fled from the man, from the crowded street and into the darkened aisle. It was quieter here and that calmed her. Anxiety raced under her skin as she breathed in deeply. She'd overreacted, let herself get worked up. Not all men were evil, Mihawk was a good example. And she'd know lots of nice men on the Sagiune Peninsula. Thinking of her home island brought a fresh wave of tears to her eyes as she tried to focus on not stepping on anything sharp.

Then there was the matter of whether she should try to get even for what had happened to her Father.

Shivering, Tamara stopped and pushed that thought from her mind. Vengeance wasn't in her blood, she didn't have what it took to seek revenge. She'd cry, mourn and rebuild, but trying to satisfy with more bloodshed. That was something she knew she couldn't do. Never mind the fact that she had no idea where to even start looking.

Sighing deeply, she moved to the next corner. Pausing, she heard the sound of jeering voices around the bend, and a horrid, shrieking noise of something else that made her shudder.

"Make sure you skin it! I want a piece!"

"It's still alive, dumbass! We'll get blood everywhere!"

"Who cares, it just a stupid animal!"

Looking around the corner, Tamara saw three small figures crouched on the ground and a bigger man standing and watching passively. One of the young boys raised an empty glass bottle and started to swing it downward. Tamara reacted without thinking once she realised what was happening. She sprang forward pasted the older male, who jump aside in surprise.

"What the hell are you doing, you little brats! Stop it!"

Tamara's hand grabbed the bottle and shoved aside the group of children, lashing out with a leg to kick one in the stomach. None of the three could be older than 12 or 13 years. On the ground by their feet was a black cat, mutilated and bleeding out, but still alive, crying in pain. Startled cries sounded at the youths were bowled over and knocked back.

"Hey!"

"Whoa! Oww!"

"Who's this Ripley? Is this part of the test too?"

The boys backed away towards the older male. She tore her eyes away from the dying animal, tossing the bottle aside and glared up at the group, rage at seeing something so familiar happen in front of her robbing her of her normal sense of preservation.

"You're interfering in business of the Red Snakes, Ona. That's not a wise thing to do. Leave...this initiation isn't finished yet."

The one the kids had called Ripley spoke calmly, and with some measure of authority. But the fact that he was probably only 17 years old and Tamara's rising anger pushed her past whatever threat he might process.

"Initiation! Torturing a defenceless creature is some kind of sick hazing trial for your demented little boy club! And you make children do it! What are trying to do, raise a brood of serial killers!? Or maybe you can't handle anything tougher than a cat, you psychotic bastard!"

Ripley stepped forward menacingly, fists clenched at his side, "You should watch your mouth, Ona. Or someone might have to shut it for you."

On someone who hadn't spent the last several weeks around a cold-eyed, ghost-walking, fire-color-changing, deadly-as-all-hell swordsman, the move may have succeeded in making her back away. But it didn't and Tamara saw the teens arm tense. Past experience told her he was about to swing a fist. He did, an over the shoulder backhand designed to strike her across the cheek. Tamara ducked under the blow, hand already at her spine.

Without a thought, she unsheathed the dagger and sliced upwards. A howl lit the air and an arc of red sprayed on the wall. Blood dripped from the end of the blade and she glared down at Ripley with fire in her eyes. He clutched the left side of his face while curled into a ball and screaming in agony and disbelief,

"My face! You bitch! You cut my face!"

A trio of terrified screams came from the younger boys as they promptly fled, yelling in panic at seeing their so called leader fall to a slip of a girl. She ignored them, maybe they'd learn a thing or two. Planting a bare foot on the bleeding man's shoulder, she forcibly rolled him to his back. He glared at her between his fingers, pain and fear mixing with black hate and rage.

"You don't know what you've done, you stupid cow! Do you know who I am, who I work for!"

She snarled low and held the blade stained with his blood in front of her, "I don't give damn who you are. Your a fucking coward and a twisted man. I should do to you what you made those kids do to that poor cat. Now get the hell out of here before I cut off something you'll miss a lot more than your ugly face!"

Even bleeding as he was, she still saw his face pale. A coward indeed, he made her sick. Tamara watched as he clumsily scrambled to his feet, glaring over his shoulder as he fled, "You'll regret this, you fucking bitch!"

Alone again, Tamara turned back to the dying cat. Correction...dead cat. It had finally given in and passed on. She only hoped her intervention had let it pass in some measure of peace. Bending down, she placed a hand on the still warm body, speaking quietly it,

"I'm sorry...I'm sorry I didn't come sooner. I hope you find some peace."

She debated about what to do with the body when a tiny sound caught her attention. The pitiful sound of a mew. Turning, Tamara saw a small ball of black fluff wobbling out of a box on its side and into the alley. The teeny feline replica of the deceased adult padded over with all the awkwardness of a newborn foal learning to walk and licked the passed cats head with a pink tongue. Her heart broke as she watched,

"Hey there...this must be your mom, huh?" Gold eyes tinted with amber and green looked at her. She reached out and scooped up the tiny kitten. The poor thing couldn't be more than 5 weeks old, it still has its milk teeth, "I know how you feel. My Papa was murdered too. Don't worry, I'll take care of you now. How's that sound?"

The baby mewed in response, nuzzling into her hands and purring softly. Tamara felt herself calm down a little. There was always hope, even when the world appeared so cruel. If she hadn't come along, those boys probably would have killed this little...She checked under the tail quickly. Boy...little boy cat.

Well, now she had to bury mothers body. Using the edge of her skirt to clean the blood from her dagger, Tamara re-sheathed the blade and looked around for something to put the body in. Settling on a box, Tamara scooped up the black kitten. After a moment of thought, she pulled out the loose front of her dress and wriggled him into the bodice before picking up the makeshift cardboard coffin and leaving. Part way through the journey, the mischievous fluffball climbed onto her shoulder and stayed there as she walked. He wobbled a bit, but managed to balance well enough.

She shifted her cargo to her hip and tried to keep a hand free, just in case he fell.

It took some time to maneuver through the town and find an area with dirt and grass. A green space in the city likely meant to be some kind of park. By that time, a good chuck of the day had passed. The sun was nearing afternoon. Tamara found a nice tall trees with lots of leaves and knelt down.

The little kitten stayed by her side as she dug with the dagger and her hands till a shallow grave was made. She laid the babies mother to rest. Afterwards, she sat with her back to the trees and let her new pet sleep in her lap as she tried to figure out what to do.

Finally, as the sun started to set, she scooped up the kitten into her arms.

"Well...guess we should find some place to sleep for the night."

Walking back into town was quiet. The stalls from the marketplace were packed up, most people had moved inside. Lights came from windows and Tamara saw the shadow of two people embrace in a hug. Her heart longed to be able to touch someone like that. She wondered if she was ever going to be able to handle physical contact again.

Her mind cast back to a open hand, waiting patiently.

There was still hope. If she could handle touching a freaking Shichibukai, she could learn to deal with people again. She just needed some time. Or at least she hoped time would be enough. Remembering her reaction to the nice man in the marketplace, she sighed a little.

"I really am horribly damaged goods now."

A shiver hit her skin and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. Tamara paused and tilted her head. As she stopped, the sound of footsteps behind her paused too. Swallowing, she glanced around for some form of a public building where other people might be. No such luck, it looked like she'd wandered into a residential area. Trying to act normal, she continued walking.

The steps followed, getting louder.

Rounding a bend, Tamara stopped cold as two men walked towards her. At her act of freezing, they stopped to. Both had cruel and devious smirks on their faces. She turned to walk back the way she came. More bodies appeared behind her. Her heartbeat started to pick up. Without thinking, she stuffed her pet back into her dress.

"Stay there..." she murmured softly before shifting into a stance she remembered seeing Mihawk in during his sword practice.

It took a lot of effort to keep her face neutral and uncaring when Ripley walked out of the shadows with a second man. He had a red stained bandage on his cheek. Shifting her gaze, Tamara looked over his associate. _Big_ was the first thought that hit her. The man was hugely muscle bound with an ugly burn scar over his right cheek that extended down his neck. It was somewhat covered up by a coiling tattoo of a hissing red serpent.

"This is the girl that cut you, Ripley?" His voice was harsh and mocking.

Tamara swallowed again at the response, "That's her...scared off the potential recruits and thought she could cross the Serpents without consequences."

The inked leader of the group snorted before raising a massive fist and punching the younger teen. A yowl came from the teen as he collapsed and Tamara winced at the familiar sound of flesh on flesh. Whimpering and holding his once more bleeding face, he looked up at the monster of a man,

"What was that for, Viper?"

The muscle bound hulk glared down at him, "For assuming your scrawny ass is part of the Red Serpents. You're a peon, Ripley. Chaff used to bring in bodies, hell your more useless than the crap on my boots. Running away from some little witch of a girl."

Viper spat on the prone boy and she felt a slight bit of relief at his words. Maybe he'd just leave her alone if Ripley was considered so low in their ranks. But then those nasty eyes turned back to her and her heart sped up as she took a step back,

"Still...can't be having the Serpents name tainted by this little incident. There are consequences to crossing us, and everyone in this stinking town knows it. Except you, it looks like. Gonna need to fix that, won't we boys?"

Laughs and hardy agreements came from the others. Tamara looked around. Not counting the still prone Ripley, she saw five others. And they were all large and radiated malicious violence. She won't be scaring these guys off with a swallow cut. So then,

"I didn't even do much. And no one saw anything, you can just pass it off as your gangs version of disciple."

The tattooed Viper chortled darkly, "Oh...people will be knowing about what happened...believed me...they'll know."

Tamara gripped the daggers hilt tightly and sensed a wall at her back as the thugs closed around her in a semi-circle.

* * *

 **And that's where we'll end this chapter. Sorry for the cliffhanger, and we'll see what happens.**


	6. The Paths We Choose

**Well, were back again.**

 **Thanks again to everyone who reviewed, your positive comments keep me going. I cannot believe the number of followers this story is getting, it totally psyched me out. Hope I'm delivering good content and everyone is happy with how things are going.**

 **This chapter is going to be a lot in Mihawk's perspective and develop the issues that he's dealing with, as I promised in the previous post.**

 **I know I'm being rather obscure about what's going on, and that is quite deliberate as i want to build up interest and tension about future plotlines.**

 **Also it should be noted about how I'm having the public faces address Mihawk. As in the anime, I don't use his first name, only his epithet or surname rather than his forename. I do this because in my mind, Mihawk is and always has been a very private person and only those he respects and trusts can call him Dracule.**

 **It also fits seeing as for quite some time, no one was 100% sure what Mihawk's first name was anyway.**

 **I'm hoping my attempts at old English came across okay and make sense. If not, please let me know, as it will be coming up again in later chapters.**

 **Hope everyone likes it and thanks again for the support.**

* * *

One of his preferred colors was red. Red was the color of passion, of desire. That driving emotion that led him to pursue his goals and ambitions. Red also was the color of blood and death. It was the physical proof of his enemies falling, staining the ground and satisfying his killing lust. For despite his honor, he was at heart a pirate. And he did not show mercy to those that displeased him.

"This is the best you can offer..."

The low tone of his voice had the man cowering and whimpering in response, "O-of c-c-course not, S-sir. T-that was m-merely a s-sample to cl-cleanse the palate."

Rotating the glass, Mihawk watched the ruby liquid swirl, breathing in the aroma. A good body, with subtle hints of black plum. But the wine had a chalky aftertaste that ruined the whole experience. The trembling boy was sweating buckets and he debated drawing _Yoru_ and simply removing his head to relive his annoyance.

"A thousand apologises for my bumbling nephew's folly, Shichibukai Mihawk-sama." Gold double rimmed eyes turned towards the voice.

From a side door in the shop, a well dressed middle aged man stepped out. Unlike the practically unconscious idiot attempting to lick Mihawk's boots, this male kept his arms folded behind his back and bowed respectably, but didn't appear petrified of the Shichibukai. Though Mihawk could easily sense the nervous energy flitting around him.

"I'm afraid my attempts to teach him the craft of the Vintner is still a work in progress. And though he has the enthusiasm, he still has much to learn."

Mihawk regarded the new figure. Satake owned the wine shop, was quite well known for it in fact. It was the main reason he'd come. The experienced merchant would often bring in a rare collection and hold it till he choose to visit, offering new vintages to sample and add to his collection. He'd come into the store, hoping to improve his oddly vile mood that had struck him shortly after he'd docked.

He refused to consider that his black temperament might have been caused by Tamara's parting.

Setting aside the glass with disgust, Mihawk partly turned towards the elder male. Without another thought, he swiftly raised an arm and promptly backhanded Satake's quivering brood, checking his strength at the last minute so he didn't snap the maggots neck. The boy collapsed to the ground, eyes swirling and teeth missing, but still alive.

Clucking his tongue, Satake merely nodded, not daring to say a word. He was immensely grateful his experience with multiple different buyers made him able to mostly keep his professional exterior as he stepped aside and bowed with an arm extended, "Again, Shichibukai Mihawk-sama, I apologise. The premium vintages I've held are back here."

Feeling slightly better with having expended some of his irritation, Mihawk walked in the direction beckoned, hoping some of this trip could still salvaged.

The heels of his boots clanked against the stone street, each step deliberate and menacing. It was unnecessary, as every soul in his path literally folded over onto themselves to get out of the way, but he stepped harder anyway. The memory of him doing the same thing in his castle was shoved away, a frown deepening his face and making a nearby child start crying.

She wouldn't leave his thoughts, regardless of how much he pulled on his impeccable willpower.

It made no sense. She was nothing, someone that had stumbled into his life by sheer consequence. His natural distain for others and anti-social nature should have been enough to purge her from his mind. But, like some small flying gnat, the buzzing kept returning, even if only heard faintly. He was starting to get extremely irritated by his lack of control.

And speaking of faint noises...Mihawk swung around a corner and into a street that was abandoned. It suited his purpose well enough. While he had no issues dealing with problems publicly, this island was still a puppet in the World Government's pocket. He didn't need the headache of having the Fleet Admiral constantly messaging and demanding to know why half the city was destroyed.

Continuing to walk without pause, he zoned in on the pitting of soft steps behind him. Waiting for a few moments, Mihawk whipped a hand to _Yoru's_ hilt and spun in place in one smooth movement. The black blade sang a death note as it headed for its victim.

Gold eyes widened suddenly and the razor edge froze, pressing against flesh and causing a tiny cut that oozed crimson fluid.

"...Caspian...?"

Mihawk stared at the figure kneeling before him on the street. A man he hadn't seen since his childhood, a man he never again expected to see. With a bowed head, _Yoru's_ blade resting on his cheek and wearing a familiar crest tattooed on his arm, the male spoke with an all too recognisable accent,

 _"Thy servant to the blood of Carpathi does offer his essence to thee, keeper of the Sigil Throne."_

He almost didn't recognise his mother tongue.

Pulling away his sword, Mihawk recomposed himself, falling back into his stoic and serious demeanor, though his heartrate had increased and dark memories were rising in his mind,

 _"Mine claim was forsaken long ago. No longer does mine heart call to the rising sun and falling moon. What does thee wish of this severed one?"_

Caspian remained kneeling, ever a loyal servant and switched to the common language, "You've ignored the summons sent, my Lord. I was dispatched to relay the request in person. You are needed."

Re-sheathing his weapon, Mihawk glared at the familiar man with all the heartless cold he could muster. The black haired male lowed himself further to the ground, but didn't flee,

"My oath was final and will not be broken. I swore the _Voto de Despedida_. I will not be summoned or persuaded back by a crawling insect such as you."

A lengthy pause followed before Caspian spoke softly, fear and reverence in his voice, "The Left Hand is fading, my Lord."

A barely heard intake of breath took hold of him. His shield of ice faltered, cracking slightly as the words Caspian spoke took hold. A hundred different emotions flew through him, and it was only his years of discipline that held him in check, even as his leg muscles quiver ever so slightly. He choose to turn his back on the man who'd once followed on his heels, fretting and fluttering over his safety like a needy mother hen,

"Then it will fade. It means nothing to me."

"Moldovien will fall, my Lord."

Mihawk started to walk away, "All things fall with time." Switching languages, he kept speaking, _"Mine choice is and always will be unchanged. Thine servant returns to thine soil of home and will cease attempting to sway this one."_

Listening closely as he moved, he heard the sound of footsteps faded away. He no longer sensed anyone following him and his feet continued onward while his mind reeled.

The Left Hand was dying.

It seemed impossible, unreal, some lie conjured by the World powers. But he'd heard it clear as daybreak from the mouth of one of the most steadfast followers. Caspian had no reason to lie or deceive, and would not dare against him, even if he did. Feeling the city start to close in around him, Mihawk turned and headed out of the metropolis.

Ariedale was set up on a cliffside, with the port being the only entrance into it. A very defendable location and one that gave a magnificent view, if one knew where to go. Looking over the rolling waves of the ocean, Mihawk tried to clear his mind. The world faded away as he meditated in place, fighting back urges he'd long ago thought he'd purged from his person.

By the time he'd managed to return to his normal, impassive state, the sun was nearing its base, turning the sky into a watercolor of art. For a bit, he looked at the pink, yellow and red hues, remembering how it looked over the high mountains of Moldovien before he shoved the memories back into the locked portion of his mind.

His mood was now even more foul than earlier. Mihawk now longingly wished for a fool hearted pirate or even a weakling challenger to appear, if only to slate his temper for a short time. Turning back to the city that was starting to light the outdoor lanterns, the swordsman started to head towards the inn he was staying at.

As he walked, the buzzing came again. Caspian's arrival had pushed the niggling thought from his mind for some time, but now it returned. The sun was down and Mihawk wondered briefly if the Little Thing had found a place to stay. Finally giving into the temptation, he lifted his eyes and scanned the city with his Haki.

Dozens of auras appears, a kaleidoscope of colors. Most were a dull grey or off white, the normal shade for average humans. Nothing special or unique, poorly trained and lacking in ambition. Some held specs of color, potential not yet awakened. He looked around till he saw the gentle glow of saffron tinted with streaks of blue. She was calm and relaxed, located almost four blocks from him and moving away.

Mihawk refocused and saw the area around her more clearly. She was still outside and appeared to be randomly wandering. Then he sensed the presence of others moving towards her. At first, it didn't look like much, another few bodies in the city. Till they turned and started to encircled the golden light, malice filtering into their energies. And she was still unaware of them.

 _Yoru_ shook hard on his back and he'd taken three steps forward before he caught himself. Pausing, Mihawk debated his choice. She'd left, determined to take care of herself without his aid. He should leave her be, respect her choice. But at the same time, he was feeling rather bloodthirsty with all that had happened. And if nothing else, he was curious to see how she would handle this new problem she'd walked into.

Decision made, he let his Haki awaken and quicken his pace. Moving a speeds normal humans couldn't hope to achieve, Mihawk arrived at the brawl a bit later than he would have liked. And he was both highly displeased and impressed with what he saw.

The over muscled men surrounding her were weak, loathsome creatures, with the only advantage being numbers that they used to harass, backing her against a wall. One of the men caught her arm and yanked her close. She reacted instantly, drawing her blade and ramming it into his temple with a harsh yell. Blood spurted as she withdrew it and her opponent crumpled to the ground.

His eyebrows rose as he stayed in the shadows and watched. She'd killed, taken a life without hesitation or warning. He wasn't sure if it had been from desperation or desire, but either way, his esteem rose more in regards to her. And her action made the others falter slightly, giving her almost the break needed to run away. Except the tattooed male directly in front did not react well to the death of his subordinate and rallied the group quickly,

"You bitch! Get her now!"

The men closed in around her. Tamara was quick on her feet, dodging around their clumsy attempts to grab and strike her with rather good success, lashing out with the small blade he'd given her in an attempt to keep the thugs at bay. But her small size, low strength and inexperience in combat weighed against her.

The gang's leader charged with a roar and slammed a meaty fist into her, which she blocked with crossed arms, but the force knocked her back into the wall. A painful howl left her lips as she collided with the unyielding barrier, skull cracking against stone before she slumped down to the ground, blue eyes dazed as her enemy moved to take advantage of her state.

At the sight of her in peril, Mihawk's mind went blank and cold fury swept through his veins.

* * *

Jumping over the dead body of the man she'd killed, Tamara sliced at one of the men as he leapt towards her. The blade cut through flesh and made him yelp as she spun away, looking for a way out.

She had no issues hurting any of these thugs, or killing them if needed, but she really didn't want to. She wasn't a violent person, fighting back was only done when absolutely necessary, but she'd take lives if needed, same as anyone else. That was the way of the world and these guys were clearly beyond any form of reason. Tamara made a lunge to get pasted the men herding her and got shoved back into the center of the pack in response.

It really would be so much nicer if she could just run.

Then Viper got involved. She saw his fist rise as he thundered towards her. Too big to dodge around and too mean to be pushed back by her small knife. So then...She blocked the blow as best she could, but the force made her arms go numb. The immovable surface at her back knocked the wind from her lungs and sent shooting pain down her spine as her head collided with granite.

Tamara gasped as she struggled to recover and saw the gang leader standing over her, one arm raised and ready to crush her. Fear and pain froze her in place, she couldn't move. She waited for the strike to fall, staring up at Viper.

He didn't move.

Her heartbeat _once_... _twice_... _three_ times...then the man's head slide off his neck and rolled across the street like a bouncy ball from a house of horrors. A fountain spray of crimson shot upwards and the decapitated body crashed to the ground.

Tamara was left staring at a black clothed figure holding a giant cross shaped sword. For a few moments, absolute silence filled the air. Then panicked screams were all she heard.

"Holy crap! It's fucking Hawkeye!"

"Oh fuck! Run! Run!"

"Ahhhhhh!"

It was over in moments. Tamara didn't even see him move, it was more of a dark blur with a metallic _Twing_ singing in her ears. Four dead bodies littered the streets in seconds, red liquid flowing across the stone and silence again blanketed the air.

Then a tiny whimper split the quiet. And she saw Death's Reaper turn towards Ripley as he attempted to crawl away. Heels clicked on the street and the teen crab walked backwards as the Shichibukai loamed over him, blood dripping from the end of his immense blade.

"oh god no...please no...i didn't..."

The whispered pleas fell on deaf ears and the weapon rose up. Tamara looked away and closed her eyes. The sound of slicing flesh and gurgling faded. She took in a breath and stayed perfectly still, trying to figure out what the hell had just happened and wondering why she wasn't more terrified, considering she'd just witness a mass murder.

"You have a habit of getting into trouble, Little Thing."

She started at the low voice, head snapping to look, and struggling not to shiver at the icy tone. As she watched, Mihawk swung his sword through the air and an arc of blood flew off the blade. He replaced it at his back and she felt some small measure of relief at the action. Adrenaline made her brain-to-mouth filter stop working again,

"You make it sound like I went looking for it." Gold eyes turned and looked down at her. Tamara fought down a flinch as she saw a small smirk at the corner of his mouth before his gaze went lower and a brief flicker of confusion crossed his face,

"Why is your chest moving?"

Remembering suddenly, Tamara hooked a finger on the edge, pulling the fabric out a bit and her kitten poked his head out. Silted eyes turned towards the Warlord and a small mew was directed towards him. Mihawk stared at the feline for a moment sitting in her cleavage,

"Is that the reason you were attacked by these cretins?"

Tamara hesitated slightly, still reeling from the massacre he'd done and more than slightly fearful that she might be next, "Err...more or less...It's...kinda a long story..."

For a moment, she was sure Mihawk was about to kill her. Then something happened that made her 100% sure she was dead. His head jerked back and his shoulders shook with force,

" _Wahhahhahha_!"

She could only stare in utter shock and awe as the World's Greatest Swordsman, one of the seven Warlords of the Sea, partially curled forward as he laughed out loud. Actually **laughed** , not the rare rumbling chuckles she'd heard from time to time. And he was smiling while doing it. After a few moments, Mihawk got control of himself and turned from her, still chuckling a bit before starting to walk away.

Tamara was still trying to figure things out when he spoke again, "Come along, Little Thing."

"Huh? But...I thought...?" Didn't he want her to stay behind? Not be around him anymore? Mihawk stopped walking, "Have you found lodging for the night?"

"Err...no..."

Tamara saw the Shichibukai partial turn back towards her. She was still sitting on the ground, now cradling her pet and staring at him. His gold eyes ran over her and she was sure she must look like an absolute mess. But she still hesitated. When he looked away again, his next words made her heart stutter.

"Follow me if you wish...Tamara."

As Mihawk started to walk again, his meaning hit her and she scrambled to her feet, feeling herself smiling brightly as she jogged to catch up.

"Yes...Mihawk-san."

* * *

Breakfast at the Emerald Shore Inn was a lavish display. It was completely unnecessary, but evidently the owner and employees didn't agree. Though he was pleased that the dinning area had been closed off for his excusive use, dealing with too many people always left him cross. The soft padding of feet over carpet almost made him move but he stayed in the position he was, with crossed legs sprawled over the table, hands folded over his stomach, chair tilted on two legs and eyes closed,

"Why do you insist on not wearing shoes?"

Mihawk sense her pause for a moment, before she grabbed a plate and started filling it with food from the fresh buffet set up before answering,

"I'm indoors, I don't need shoes. Besides, I've been running around barefoot for weeks, I've kinda gotten used to it."

Peeling open one eye partway, he looked over the newest curiosity in his life. She'd been cleaned and groomed from the previous night. And she was wearing new clothes, a white ankle length sundress with a scooping neckline and three-quarter sleeves. It fit much better than the previous one, hugging her figure and showing that, yes, she did indeed have curves, small as they might be. She'd taken the pale pink sash from before and tied it at her waist, likely more to hold her blade than for any fashion sense.

At her feet was the ebony ball of fur, following her every step and occasionally mewing upwards.

He watched her turn and walk towards him. The table he sat at was large and she took a seat far enough away that his feet didn't disturb her after setting a cup of hot coffee near him. There were several empty plates from his meal sprawled about that hadn't been cleared away. The staff of the inn barely dared to enter the room, let alone wait on him.

He picked up the mug without a word as she set a saucer of milk on the chair next to her and lifted the kitten onto the cushion before turning to her own meal. Giving her a bit to eat, he finally spoke,

"What did you call it?" Tamara swallowed and responded, "Him...his name is Virgil."

That name was very familiar and Mihawk paused as he thought for a few moments, "Virgil...the Poet?"

Blue eyes looked up in surprise and she smiled in delight. He felt his mood unintentionally shift to a more pleasant state at the act, "You know _Dante's Inferno_?"

"I'm amazed you do." He received a scrunched face scowl in return for that comment that amused him before she turned back to her meal,

"My Mother used to read it to me. When I was younger it scared me to death, but I started to appreciate the allegory that it represents once I got older, ones journey towards God and Satan, the philosophy of human sin and punishment. I'm pretty sure Mother used it as a way to keep me from acting out."

"Yet here you are."

"Ha-ha, very funny." Mihawk closed his eyes again, fighting down a smirk at the sarcastic tone she sent back at him before sipping his beverage, noting that Tamara's brew was much better.

But her knowledge opened up more questions about her. _Dante's Inferno_ was a rarely written piece of literature. The poem of the circles of Hell was generally only known by the well travelled and educated. Or by those of noble blood. While Tamara had a clever and quick mind, he'd gotten the impression that she wasn't formally taught. So either her Mother had been remarkable intelligent with access to restricted compositions or Tamara was hiding more than she let on.

He was surprised that he wasn't overly bothered by that thought, uncaring of what risks or secrets she was burdened with. It was nothing he couldn't handle.

A commotion suddenly started to come from the room outside where the two resided. Voices raised and yelled, something sounded like it broke. Mihawk ignored it and Tamara tilted her head slightly in curiosity as she chewed. The double doors to the halls slammed open suddenly and a tall, lean male with sapphire blue hair tied back in a long braid walked in, radiating confidence, power and fearlessness.

He was also extremely loud, much to his annoyance.

"Hawkeye Mihawk! I've been waiting months on this god forsaken island for you to arrive! Stand up, Government Dog, your life and title are mine! Today you fall before Drydan _'the Untouchable'_!"

The man calling himself Drydan swaggered over to the table like a flaunting peacock, eyes laser focus on him. Mihawk noted through silted eyes that appeared closed that the he had both a katana and a wakizashi sheathed at his waist. A quick scan of the challenger showed some strength, perhaps a limited ability to use Haki, but mostly was a worthless farce of a swordsman.

"You're going to die."

The over dramatic warrior looked towards the female voice and Mihawk struggled to keep his normal facial expression at the confounded look Drydan wore. Had he really not sensed her when he'd burst in? Pathetic. "It's not a threat, it's a fact. You should leave."

"Who the hell are you!?"

She took another bite from her toast, surprisingly calm considering the arching energy being put off in the room by Mihawk and the fact that Drydan had one hand on his sword, thumb already starting to unsheathe the blade. Her confidence in him was somewhat flattering, she seemed completely certain of her safety.

 _Kogatana_ quivered on his neck at the display, eager to taste blood and he felt his previous irritation start to grow much darker at the redirected aggression.

"Mind your tongue boy, the Lady is attempting to save your pitiful life."

Before anything else could happen, the inn's manager and three staff members raced into the room in a flurry. The terrified owner bowed before Mihawk, stuttering apologises,

"I am so very sorry, Shichibukai Mihawk-sama. My employees and I tried to stop him, but he barged in." Mihawk said nothing in response and the manager wrung his fingers together as he fretted, "Forgive my insolence, Shichibukai Mihawk-sama, but...might I humbly beg for this...incident to be settle outside the Emerald Shore's walls?"

"Screw that! I'll kill you right here and now!"

The two-sword fighter drew his katana and shifted towards Mihawk, sliding into a combat stance he recognised from Wano. Likely formally trained in swordplay, though he didn't appear to be native to the isle. It might be somewhat of an interesting duel, but unlikely.

Calmly taking another drink from his mug and sensing Drydan's anger rise even higher, he finally set down the cup and pulled the rim of his hat lower on his face. Leaning on the chair behind him, _Yoru_ hummed in anticipation, though she already knew it was unlikely her master would wield her against such trash.

"Wait outside if your so eager to die today."

"You're the only one dying, Hawkeye!" Mihawk opened his ringed eyes and glared at the loud mouth disturbing his morning, pleased when he shifted slightly, "Show a little dignity, this is hardly the place for a duel, if you dare to even call it that."

Dryden seemed to deflate a little before puffing up again, "Fine! But don't think you're getting out of fighting me! I will take your head!"

With those parting words, the man stormed from the room and the manager and staff briefly groveled before fleeing. As Mihawk went to swing his legs from the table and stand, quick movement made him turn and he blinked slowly as Tamara scooped up Virgil and started to dart around the table for the door,

"Where are you going?"

She turned with a cheeky grin as she followed the path of the soon to be dead swordsman who's name he didn't even bother remembering,

"Oh right...like I'm gonna miss this."

Despite himself, Mihawk found a small smirk cross his face as he watched the blond girl dash away before he sheathed his sword and followed at a more sedate pace.

* * *

 **So I was originally going to write up a short fight scene, but pretty much everyone knows what's going happen. I'll do a quick summary in the next chapter, but this feels like a good ending point for this one.**

 **As for Tamara's actions in combat, I'm playing her fighting spirit similar to Nami's. A person willing to strike out, but hesitating to kill unless no other option available. And when outnumbered and outgunned, well, anyone would do what has to be done.**

 **Once again, I hope everyone likes this chapter and keeps following along.**

 **Thanks for the support, love you all.**


	7. We All Fall Down

**Well, well...off to the race again.**

 **I am truly blessed to have such loyal followers of this story. Thank you so much to everyone.**

 **It is my hope that I am successfully building a slow relationship between Tamara and Mihawk, starting with a friendship and perhaps blooming into something more. Which could be complicated with Mihawk's stubborn nature and Tamara's emotional paralysis. But I'm really having fun with this.**

 **So once more, I own nothing but the OC's and if anyone would like to buddy up on the story, I'm always looking for partners.**

* * *

The trip back to Kuraigana did not go as smoothly as the journey to Redemption Island.

For starters, the fight with Drydan delayed departure. Well...it really hadn't been much of a fight at all. Tamara had watched from a safe distance with a handful of other brave souls as Mihawk had faced off against the brash swordsman.

She had zero experience with swordplay and its art, but from what she'd seen, Mihawk had almost enjoyed toying with the blue haired man, not even bothering to draw his Black Blade, fending him off instead with a palm sized knife held inside the cross on his neck. Drydan hadn't appeared upset by this, but his attacks in comparison to Mihawk's were clumsy and amateurish, almost humorous.

The opponent didn't managed to ruffle a single hair on his head. Tamara was completely unsurprised by this.

Mihawk had insulted him further by choosing to leave the swordsman alive with two broken arms, a deep laceration on his stomach that was guaranteed to scar, possibly kill if not treated and shattered blades where his swords once were before walking away while Drydan howled in rage and demanded to be finished. When Tamara had cocked her head in question once he returned, he'd responded with,

"Death is easy, Little Thing. Living is hard."

She'd never heard more truthful words in her life.

Despite Mihawk's claim to only remain for a single day, with his invitation for Tamara to stay with him longer _(or at least that was what she was translating it as)_ , it was obvious she needed some things. So the second time he'd handed her the bundle of cash, she hadn't been able to deny it.

That had lead to her wandering through the shops of Ariedale with Virgil perched on her shoulder and gathering what she needed. She'd only intended to get the bare essentials and return as many of the berries as she could. That did not work, as ever time she entered a store, the attendances basically gave her everything she looked at for free or a price so low it may as well have been free.

When she'd attempted to refuse the hospitality, the absolute terror and panic that overcame the people made her squirm with guilt. Evidently the most of them now knew she was some kind of acquaintance to the Shichibukai and feared for their very existence if she was refused even one item she might like.

In some ways it was kinda nice to be so pampered, but it was highly unnatural and felt just plain weird to her. She was pretty sure she now had a wardrobe that rivalled some Princesses. It was a good thing her room in the castle had a large closet.

And beyond all that, she was pretty sure the cosmos were desperately trying to warn her about the fact that she'd chosen to trail after a fricking Shichibukai.

Tamara wasn't sure what had changed in the ocean in the week they'd been gone, but evidently things had indeed changed. The ship hadn't been more than a few hours from Ariedale before the first hiccup happened.

She'd been enjoying herself on deck, playing with Virgil in her lap when the whole boat had heaved to the side, throwing her to the floor. When she'd looked around, an absolutely gigantic lime green and electric blue striped serpent-like monster with a hooded cobra neck frill was looming above the ship.

Tamara hadn't even had time to scream before the Sea King had been sliced into multiple pieces, the falling chunks of flesh sending waves sloshing over the prow. She'd been soaked, Virgil had squawked in protest and Mihawk had calmly reached over the side of the ship to yank up a large piece of meat and taken it into the storage hold.

She'd sat on the deck in stunned shock and awe till her clothes had dried.

Then there was the morning she'd been in a deep sleep in the hold when the sounds of screaming, cannon fire and metallic slicing jerked her awake. For a few moments she'd been convinced she was dreaming...then the ship had rocked a bit. Tamara had quickly gotten up, poked her nose cautiously out the door.

There'd been a large ship with huge slash marks in the hull, some men floundering in the ocean and the unmistakable sound of combat and yells of terror from the other boat. She hadn't seen Mihawk and at the sight of the tattered Jolly Roger, Tamara had firmly closed the door and waited till she'd heard several hours of silence before daring to leave.

She'd said nothing about the small lifeboat tied to the stern that held several chests and large sacks.

All in all, she was fairly certain the world was attempting to convince her that she'd made a really back choice. Unfortunately for the world, it didn't work and only managed to cement something else in her mind. Which she now needed to try and work through.

Laying the bamboo mat flat, Tamara started to press the sticky vingared rice into place. It had been five days since her return to Kuraigana and mostly, she'd fallen back into the same routine as before. Except now she felt significantly more comfortable around Mihawk. Yes, he was still a deadly, murderous man, but he seemed to have some tolerance for her. That was something at least.

And it was that tolerance she was banking on for what she had planned next.

Rolling the mat and pressing it in place, Tamara carefully sliced through the rice, glad that the fresh Sea King meat had kept so well. It would really bring out the flavor of the avocado and cucumber. As she arranged the pieces onto a long plate, drizzling them with spicy siracha mayo and sesame seeds, she cocked her head towards the door.

He hadn't shown up. Which was odd in itself, Mihawk always appeared when she was prepping a meal. She'd been counting on that fact to remain true. Humming to herself, she looked down at Virgil. The black kitten had settled into the castle well, trailing happily after her and was rapidly learning how to balance on her shoulder when he got too tired to walk on his own.

Biting her lip, Tamara debated about what to do. Finally, she grabbed a platter and set up the lunch meal, including a small pot of hot water to prepare tea in before smiling at her pet.

"Virgil...find Mihawk-san."

The little feline blinked at her for a moment before mewing in agreement and thundering off, tail flagpole straight behind him. She giggled and followed behind, hoping her courage held out.

* * *

There was one thing he truly hated about being a Shichibukai. The paperwork.

Most of the time he ignored the reports and summons sent to him by the Navy. Which caused it to pile up and have to be dealt with in some way. Usually it involved him simply burning it, but he did like to briefly browse through the information before that. Having knowledge of what was happening in the world was important to him. And with the wide spread of the World Government, corrupt and misguided as they were, being associated with them was the single best way to keep in the loop.

Boring and time consuming as the task was, Mihawk was quite happy doing it this time.

Scanning over the report carefully, he tried to figure out if it was legitimate or another lie spun up to make the powers look superior. The Straw Hat Pirates had been in Lougetown. The Marine Captain Smoker had attempted to capture them and failed, resulting in the crew getting away.

Siting back in his chair, he thought carefully about what that meant, a small satisfied smile crossing his face. Lougetown was one of the last stops before entering the Grand Line. Which meant the _'Pirate Hunter'_ would soon be tested by Paradise.

Mihawk wondered briefly if Roronoa Zoro would overcome the challenge of this fierce ocean or fall like so many others. The idea of another rival, one potential capable of offering a real challenge thrilled him to his core.

So caught up in his inner musings was he that he almost didn't hear the soft knock on the thick door to his office.

"Come..."

A blond head shyly crossed the threshold and blue eyes looked over before teeth caught a lower lip, "Good afternoon, Mihawk-san. I've made lunch, would you care for some?"

Waving a hand in invitation, he moved aside some papers as she brought the tray of food over. She placed the platter on the edge of his desk carefully and lifted the pot of water in question. He nodded once and Tamara started to prep tea while he grasped the makizushi with chopsticks.

Between bites, he questioned her as she poured a cup of warm brew, "How did you know I was in here?"

"I didn't...Virgil found you." Mihawk looked down to the floor at the small kitten sitting at her feet and looking up expectantly. Tamara had spoiled the feline by feeding him small bites from her meals. He had no intention of doing the same.

"Hnn...clever little creature."

She smiled softly at that comment but didn't response. He'd felt her anxiety over the last few days. Something was bothering her and she had yet to deal with it. Where as before there was a degree of calm when she was around him, now she seemed to be walking on glass. He'd left her be for the time, but as she waited for him to finish, she kept shifting around and biting her lip.

Finally he addressed her, "What's weighing on you, Little Thing?"

Tamara jumped a bit and ducked her head, cheeks coloring slightly, "Am I that obvious? I thought I'd been hiding it better."

"No...you haven't been. Out with it, do you wish to leave?"

Mihawk hadn't really known what had persuaded him to invite her back to his home. He justified the act by telling himself he enjoyed having her wait on him and that her presence kept his home in order. But her nervous twitching over the last few days made him wonder if she'd come with him willingly or simply because she felt she had no choice.

Her head snapped up and a shocked look passed over her face, "What! No...no, no. That's not it. I love it here. I don't want to leave at all. I...that's not it..."

She faltered in her explanation, looking away again and shifting uncomfortably. Mihawk finished with the sushi rolls and set the utensils aside, picking up the filled teacup she'd made. White jasmine flavor with a touch of honey. Quite enjoyable.

A minute of silence passed as she tried to put the words together. He waited patiently, sipping at the warm beverage. Finally she spoke and Mihawk was glad he'd swallowed beforehand,

"Will you teach me to fight, Mihawk-san?"

He turned his head and stared at her for a bit, trying to debate if she was serious. She shifted again, but held his gaze steadily. Understanding came to him. Yes, that would be something that she would struggle to express after what he suspected she'd been through and the fact that she was, at heart, a gentle soul. Even so, he needed to be absolutely certain about what she was requesting.

"Why do you wish to learn combat? Do you not feel secure here?"

Tamara shook her head quickly and fidgeted her fingers together, "No, that's not it either. I've never felt so safe in my whole life. It's just..." Her voice grew quieter, almost like she was afraid someone else would overhear the words,

"I've never had to fight before. I was always taken care of, watched over. The villagers on my home island looked out for me, my Mother always made sure I was safe, before she passed, and my...my Papa always protected me. And...and when it mattered...I couldn't protect him in return, because I didn't know how to."

So her parents were both dead. He'd suspected, but it was quite different to hear it confirmed. And from the sounds of things, her Father had not died naturally. Her voice cracked with pain as she spoke about him. Mihawk stayed quiet as she continued speaking,

"If I'm going to live here in the Grand Line, call it home, then I need to get stronger. Just seeing what happened on the way back to Kuraigana has already shown me that I'm not good enough to survive here as I am. And..."

Now she looked up at him, eye shining brightly. That stirred an unknown emotion in his gut that was starting to appear more and more frequently in regards to her,

"And I don't want to always rely on you to save me all the time. I want to be able to stand on my own again...to walk forward."

Mihawk took another sip, maintaining his composure even though her speech had stirred his empathy. He did admire those who fought to improve themselves, "You did quite well on your own."

"Not well enough. If I'd had some experience in fighting, defending myself, would I have been able to beat those men? Or at least fend them off?"

"Most likely..." She nodded like she'd already known the answer. There was one other thing he had to address before anything else could go forward, "You are aware that any attempts to train you will require physical contact."

Mihawk looked at her from the corner of his eye as she hugged her arm around her chest and placed her palm flat on her shoulder. He wondered if the scar there still hurt and pushed back the wave of anger the thought brought with it. She looked up at him with haunted eyes but bearing an expression of determination that made his heart beat slightly faster,

"I know...I've thought about this for a while...I...I think I'll be okay with it...as long as its you. I trust you, Mihawk-san. And I know you'll step back if I happen to...freak out. Which I might...You...You won't get upset about that...right?"

His chest clenched at the words, at her beguiling innocence and naïve belief in him. She trusted him? He was a killer, a ruthless pirate and heartless, selfish man. But she, who should have the most heinous attitude towards men and humanity in general, had absolute faith that he wouldn't take advantage of her. Mihawk didn't know how to feel about that. But he did know what to say,

"Of course not, Little Thing."

* * *

Wearing pants after so many weeks of wearing loose skirts felt very strange. Tamara shifted a bit uncomfortably as she held an elastic between her teeth and combed her long hair into a ponytail. Once secured at the back of her head, she twisted the tail and pinned it to her skull. Loose hair made for an easy grab point, as she'd learned the hard way. Not that she thought Mihawk would ever resort to something so low, but it was best to get it out of the way.

Padding out into her room, she grabbed a sturdy pair of shoes with buckles across the top and tucked her dagger into the waistband of her jeans. Taking in a deep breath to steady herself, she gave a sleeping Virgil a sritch behind the ears before heading downstairs.

Mihawk was patiently waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs. Golden ringed eyes looked up at her as she trotted down the stairs, waiting till she walked towards him before speaking,

"Are you certain about this?"

Tamara paused and nodded firmly, "Yes. I want...no...I need to do this. Let's go."

He nodded back and turned, opening the front door. She followed behind the Warlord as he led her away from the castle. Having only been outside a few times, Tamara couldn't help but look around a bit.

Kuraigana Island was spooky and ominous, with drooping trees coated in vine and clouds of fog that hugged parts of the ground. The surface felt hard under her feet, but as she walked, Tamara scooped up a handful of dirt to inspect. The soil was dry and crumbled in her palm. Lifting it to her nose, she sniffed slightly. Low nitrate and too much clay, but it could be worked into a more fertile state with time. It needed some ammonia. She had a pile of coffee grounds and other leftovers, it would make good compost.

"What are you doing?" Looking up at Mihawk as he glanced back over his shoulder, she dropped the dirt and dusted her hands,

"Planning...Where are we going?"

He looked confused for a heart beat before his features smoothed over and he looked forwards again and didn't response. After another few minutes, the pair came upon a clearing. Tamara glanced back. They weren't that far from the castle and the area looked to be some previous building or yard that had fallen to ruin. Maybe an old training ground.

Tamara stayed in place when Mihawk held out a hand to her and walked a few steps away before turning towards her. She folded her hands primly and waited for the first instructions from him. He studied her for a bit, making her shift a little.

"Attack me."

She blinked rapidly, "Umm...what?" Did she hear him right?

Mihawk appeared slightly upset by the fact that she was confused, as his gaze hardened slightly, "I don't care to repeat myself. You heard me clearly."

Tamara opened her mouth to say something else and promptly closed it again. Arguing was a bad idea. Though she had been hoping for a little more direction. Taking in a deep breath to steady herself, she shifted her stance to the side. Mihawk didn't move an inch. Pushing down the urge she had to turn and run back to the castle, she finally pulled on her courage.

Studying the larger man, she planned her move. Already she knew there was no way she'd physically be able to overpower him. So that left trying to strike at vulnerable spots. Seeing the densely packed muscles displayed by the partly opened shirt he wore, Tamara choose to attack his face. Specifically, his eyes.

Curling her fingers into claws, she lunged forward, pushing down every urge she had to stop cold. Tamara had been expecting Mihawk to dodge aside. After all, her attack was instinctive and basic at the very best. He didn't move like she'd thought he would.

Well, he did in some way. As she got within arms length of him, his hand shot up and wrapped around her upper arm. Tamara had a moment of panic and confusion right before her feet left the ground. A startled shriek left her lips as she was suddenly airborne. Then the ground collided with her back and she skidded across the dirt.

The impact stunned her, knocking the wind from her lungs and she lay on the ground, struggling to recover. As she came back to her senses, feeling the sting of several scraps and grateful she'd chosen to wear a long sleeved shirt, Tamara partly sat up, looking over at Mihawk in confusion as he walked over to her calmly,

"The first step in learning to fight...is learning to fall. It makes no difference how skilled or strong you are if hitting the ground disables you."

Mihawk extended out one of his hand to her. She exhaled through her nose as she reached up and took the offer with a slight huff, "You could've warned me first."

"That would negate the point of the lesson." Tamara opened her mouth to say something else...and promptly noticed that Mihawk hadn't let go of her hand yet. Then she was flying through the air once more.

This time she didn't scream.

* * *

Several hours later, Mihawk begrudgingly admitted to himself that she was fairly impressive.

He'd been expecting Tamara to wimp out once she realised he had no intention of going easy on her. She was a small thing, after all, and from what he could tell, she'd had little experience with harsh treatment for most of her life.

Then again, it really only took one horrible event to change the whole perspective of a person. He knew that first hand.

She'd learned fairly quickly, all things considered. And her stubborn desire to keep going even after he's suggested stopping almost made him smile. He was sure she would have preferred it if he'd offered some advice in helping her learn to properly fall down, but that wasn't him and he wasn't going to change simply because she was a women. The world was a hard place to live, and so was learning to fight for your place in said world.

It had taken a number of throws before she started to understand what to do. He had felt slightly guilty about flinging her all over the place, but learning from ones own experience was truly the best way to grow stronger. Beside, he had been careful to avoid pitching her into area filled with rocks or ruins.

But she'd eventually learned to relax her body when airborne, tuck her head in to avoid hitting it on the ground and exhale as she fell to prevent loosing her breath on contact. The first time she'd done this, he'd watched her roll on her shoulder and manage to get her feet under her.

There'd been a brief moment where her face had expressed victory...right before Mihawk had blurred in front of her and sent her flying again with an open palm shove below her ribs. Upon recovery, she'd complained about the cheap shot.

He'd responded with a bland comment about there being little time in battle for small celebrations.

Once she'd successfully fallen over 2 dozen times and manage to stay focused and alert, he'd finally ceased the lesson. This time, she'd agreed. Mihawk gave Tamara a few minutes to brush herself off. She was coated in dirt and debris and judging from how she rolled her shoulders, probably very sore too.

"You're a harsh teacher, Mihawk-san."

He snorted quietly, "The best lessons learned are the ones that make you hurt." She smiled back as she cricked her neck,

"Ture enough, pains a good reminder. Did you have someone that taught you in a similar way?"

Mihawk paused and looked off into the distance, remembering the bokken lessons in the dojo of Moldovien, of the endless lectures and disappointed looks. And the many nights of throbbing aches and dark bruises that followed. He shook away the memory forcefully.

"I did, though they were not nearly as gentle as I am being."

Tamara scowled at him, though there was little malice in the look, "Lucky me..."

He chuckled a bit at her grumble before starting to walk towards the castle. She fell in a step beside him. Interesting, given that she normally walked slightly behind. As she moved, she turned towards him, moving backwards till she was ahead. Her eyes danced with sudden mirth and he arched an eyebrow at the mischievous look on her face,

"Betcha I can make it home before you~" She chirped out in a singsong. Before he could answer, she spun on her toes and bolted away, laughing happily.

He watched her run, impressed by her speed but having no intention of chasing after her. They both knew he could easily outpace her, she was just being silly. But her carefreeness was refreshing. And confirmed she wasn't upset with him for being rough on her. That was more reassuring to him than it should have been.

The path back to the castle wasn't the same one he'd taken down to the training grounds. And as he watched Tamara's form get smaller, a sudden shift beneath his feet made all his senses leapt to attention. His head snapped up, eyes honing in and he blurred forward after her before he'd fully comprehended what was happening.

The earth broke beneath her feet as she stepped on it. Fear took hold of her features as everything shifted suddenly. Cracks splintered outward as stone and dirt fell down. She stumbled and screamed as a pit opened under her, gravity snatching her body downwards greedily.

He was too far away to grab and pull her to safety, even pushing his body to the limits of Haki enhanced speed that he could. The edges of the hole fell inwards and he kicked off from a crumbling piece, shooting towards Tamara and wrapping his arms around her form, pulling her against his chest and muffling her screams on his shoulder.

Briefly he noted that her hair smelled like warm vanilla before an immense amount of weight slammed into his back and the world went dark and silent.

* * *

 **And once more, that where it ends.**

 **A HUGE thanks once more to everyone who reviewed and followed along. I know this chapters a bit shorter, but I'm hoping it still pleases everyone.**

 **Next time, we'll see where the two ended up and how they'll get out of this jam. Till then, send your love and enjoy.**


	8. Secerts in the Dark

**Frist off, big thanks to everyone. As always, I love your support. I know this took longer to post, but there's a good reason. I now have a Beta Reader. XD**

 **This means it'll take more time to post chapters, but my hope is that the quality will be greatly improved and the grammar will be much better. As such I must give a giant shout and send all my love to me best Hommie, C.S Skywalker, who help with editing and reviewing of this chapter. His fics are amazing and I must share the glory of this chapter with him**.

 **Second thing...and please read this carefully.**

 **This chapter is going have DARK themes.**

 **There will be implications of murder, rape, and incest within this chapter. It is part of the story and I truly hope I don't turn people away. But I feel that I really can't move forward without showing some of the past.**

 **Again, I apologise if I offend people and if my rating is too low, please feel free to PM me. I would appreciate not being reported to the site.**

 **Also, I know it hasn't been 100% confirmed that Mihawk can use Kenbunshoku Haki, but I find it difficult to believe that he wouldn't be able to, given his amazing physical abilities. So, for my fic, he can.**

 **Other than that, please enjoy.**

* * *

 _The sun beat down on her back, the heat causing small beads of sweat to trail along the woman's spine, soaking her shirt of muslin with small, wet circles. But She ignored the unpleasant sensation, focusing instead on the work at hand. A sudden stab of pain and she felt sharp fingers digging in, wrapping around the problem. Such an insult would not be tolerated._

 _"Mara-chan!"_

 _Blue eyes looked up and a soft smile crossed a pale face. A small girl no older than 5 years old ran towards the smile's owner, before stopping quickly, jumping up and down in place._

 _"Maramaramara,mommawantssomeoftheprettyblueonestoday,pleasepleasepleaseplease!"_

 _Trailing behind the hyper active child was a middle-aged woman with dark brown hair with a tolerant, loving smile as she looked over her daughter. "Miya, slow down and breathe. It's very rude to yell at people like that."_

 _Standing and brushing off dirt from her skirt, the first woman who had been shouted at, Tamara, turned towards Miya, holding a thick root of a dandelion in her right hand. Beside her was a magnificent rosebush bursting with dark scarlet blossoms. Tossing the weed into a bucket with others, she grinned at the woman._

 _"Nonsense Sera-san, little Miya could never be rude," she turned towards the young girl. "Isn't that right?"_

 _Small teeth flashed at her in a bright grin, and her mouth opened to say a snarky remark, but closed back shut once her Mother placed a hand on her head. Sera looked down onto her child with the endless patience only a parent could have, and Tamara felt a pang of sorrow at the familiar expression that she used to see on her own Mother's face._

 _Around the trio was a wonderland of flowers and foliage, groomed and pruned to display only the most gorgeous of flora. The paradise surrounded a modest white house with a brown roof and a large painted sign that read, **'Yukinaga's Flowerworks'**_

 _"Your garden looks beautiful as always Tamara," Sera said. "I honestly don't know how you manage to keep everything so green and lush."_

 _Tamara smiled wider at the compliment, "I learned everything from Mother. I'm just carrying on what she started."_

 _A sad look crossed the older woman's face momentarily once she heard Tamara speak of her mother. "Yuki-chan was so loved -by your Father and you and by everyone. You've inherited her love of flowers as well. I swear sometimes the only reason we get any tourists to the island these days is so they can see your botanical gardens. I know you miss her, but she'd have been so proud to see how far you've taken her work"_

 _A laugh was shared between the two before a new voice came between them. "The flowers pale in comparison to the beauty of my lovely niece."_

 _Tamara spun on the heels of her feet, eyes sparkling at the owner of the gruff voice,"Yori Oji-san!"_

 _She flung herself into the embrace of the older man in a tight hug. Pulling away, Tamara grinned at the blond male. " Oh, it been years since I've seen you! How have you been? When did you get here? How long are you staying?"_

 _In essence, Yori was the spitting male version of his niece. In her eyes, he could do no wrong. The long, white marine coat and coiled whip on his hip was lost in her adoration for the older man._

 _He smiled down at the excited woman, the darker tints of the expression lost in Tamara's joyful state, "I just arrived today, my little niece. You look just like Yuki when she was younger, you've grown up so fast. Why you're a bonafide woman now."_

 _"Oh, be quiet," Tamara playfully slapped the shoulder of her uncle._

 _ **"Yorinaga!"** A stern looking man with black hair strode towards the pair. _

_Unlike Tamara, he did not look overly pleased to see her uncle. Happiness clouded the young woman's vision as she missed the scowl cross her uncle's face, or the clear displeasure in her father's._

 _"Papa! Look, Yori Oji-san is back." Running over to her parent, she grinned with childish delight. " You will stay the night, right Oji-san?" Without waiting for a reply, she turned back to her father, oblivious to the tensions between the two older men. " He can stay in the guest room, I can get it ready myself."_

 _Her father turned towards her with a slightly strained smile, the tension causes creases in his older skin. "We'll see Rosebud, we'll see. Take Sera's order now. We can't leave our customers waiting, can we?"_

 _Tamara brushed a hair out of her eyes, all business once more as she turned to the older woman and her daughter. "Were you looking to get the Lupines or the Forget-Me-Nots today?"_

 _"Why not both?" the woman replied, laughing despite herself. "They're so beautiful. Besides, blue is Miya's favorite color. Isn't it sweetie?"_

 _The little girl's reply was lost in the wind and Tamara turned as the world shifted and blurred. Night fell, and suddenly, she found herself in her childhood bedroom as angry voices echoed through the house. She was jerked from, her bed, hazy and slow to react._

 _"You...leave...never...back...clear...not...welcome..."_

 _"Understand...not see...could mean...she...couldn't see...need her...not...denied..."_

 _"Papa?" Tamara said, her eyelids heavy. "Oji-san? Why are you yelling?"_

"...mara..."

 _Multiple bodies were seen, fists were swung, shouts and howls filled the air. Furniture broke, glass shattered but her Father's voice was heard above all the commotion, yelling loudly in desperation. "Run! Tamara run!"_

 _Red. There was red everywhere, the crack of a whip, a strange hissing sound, a strangled scream of pain._

 _"Papa!"_

 _"Take her!"_

 _Dark shadows crawled on the wall as cruel laughter and clawed hands curled towards her. Then there was the fire -licking flames that devoured white plaster walls and scorched plant life. Her mother's precious flowers fell in the inferno, being eaten up in the same flame._

 _A scream ripped from her throat as burly arms held her and pulled her away. She twisted frantically, scratching and biting like a wild animal. It did no good._

"...tamara..."

 _Darkness surrounded the edges of her vision, and her legs fell out from under her as the floor moved under her feet. The smell of salt and mold filled her nose as cold metal clamped around her wrists. Feelings of confusion, fear, betrayal, sorrow, pain drowned her. It was too much to understand, too much to take in._

 _Eyes of ice looked down on her terrified face, a gruesome smile stretched across the familiar face as a demon made flesh reached out._

 _A hiss that could terrify the strongest man echoed across the room._

 _"The blood must be pure."_

 _Hands ripped at her fabric as she screamed in response. Her cries fell on deaf ears, hearing nothing. The devil laughed in delight at her struggle and she sobbed as flesh was bared in humiliation. She strained her muscles against stronger forces that wrenched her into unwilling positions and her pleading voice echoed in her ears as it slowly broke with every cry._

 _"NO! STOP IT! STOP! PLEASE! NO MORE! STOP IT! JII-JII! STOP! STOP!"_

"Wake up Tamara! WAKE UP!"

* * *

When he came to, the first sensation he felt was pressure. **Heavy** pressure. Weight surrounded him and squeezed against him threatened to crush his lungs with every breath. It was only his extreme discipline and will that made him inhale slowly and stretch, feeling the senses around him.

He couldn't see anything. Not one spec of light was to be seen. Pure unfiltered darkness was all his eyes detected. The smell of dirt, water and vanilla hit his nose, and a warm puff of air not his own fluttered past his cheek. Aches were felt, cuts and scrapes brushed aside. There were no serious wounds, nothing was broken, but his muscles strained to hold the crushing weight pressing on his back at bay.

Flaring the Color of Observation, Mihawk felt out the soul his immense strength was currently protecting. Tamara was out cold under him, but her breathing was steady, and he heard no wheezing. Her lungs were clear. He could feel her heart beating strong against his chest and her aura still hummed with life. She was fine...or as fine as one could be when buried alive. Now he just had to break out of the rubble trying to kill them both. That was a task easier said than done. Mihawk didn't know where they'd ended up or how far they'd fallen. It was hard to say if even he could move the colossal tonnage around him. The alternative, however, was not acceptable. He only hoped shifting the pile of rocks didn't cause another cave in.

Taking in another breath and being thankful that he wasn't claustrophobic, Mihawk focused his spirit's energy. Letting the Busoshoku Haki flow through his body, he felt his skin harden and strengthen, the weight on him becoming more of a nuisance then a deadly force. Planting a hand flat on one side of Tamara and shifting to cover as much of her as possible, Mihawk jerked his elbow back against the barrier around him.

The rocks crumbled like dried bread crumbs, forcing Mihawk to close his eyes. A divot formed, and he slammed into it again, strike after strike until he'd made a large enough area to move his arm around. Then, he hit it with a closed fist. He gritted his teeth. With more momentum, the attack would be far more effective. To his surprise, his hand punched through the barrier and cold air hit his skin.

Flexing his back and legs upwards, the fallen rocks holding him prisoner exploded outwards as he partially stood with a low roar. Listening to stones tumble and dirt settle, Mihawk was satisfied nothing else was going to fall on him and turned to his charge. Moving a few larger rocks aside, he scooped up the unconscious girl and carefully felt in the dark till a mostly flat area was found. Setting her down, Mihawk began to assess where they were.

He couldn't sense any fresh air or movement of such, it was stale and dank. He ran his hands along a wall that felt man-made, grout and mortar were under his fingers. Reaching above and carefully rising to his full height, Mihawk was able to stand comfortably, but his hands brushed against the same stone at full extension. With Kenbunshoku Haki, he saw a long tunnel stretching out before him.

A whimper caught his ears and he turned blindly back to Tamara. Using his Haki, he felt her aura start to darken and her distress got louder, sobbing turning into cries. Moving back towards her, Mihawk reached down and shook her shoulders,

"Wake, Little Thing. You're dreaming again. Tamara, wake up."

She didn't hear him, and her cries got louder, voice speaking without her consent, filled with fear and sorrow, "Papa! No, no! Don't! Get away! Get away!"

Mihawk felt a searing pain as her nails scraped over his chest as she started to flail, twisting in panic at the phantasm assaulting her. Getting more aggressive, he raised his voice while simultaneously restraining her wrists together.

"Tamara! Come back now! Tamara!"

Screams of terror and pain echoed in the small space. As close as he was to her, the sound was deafening. She fought harder against him, struggling to break free. She was going to injure herself at the rate she was going.

Later, he would regret his choice. But at the moment, his only thought was to purge the nightmare plaguing this young woman and avoiding self-injury.

Pulling her up into a kneeling position, he spun her back to his chest and pinned her arms across her front, locking her legs in place with his thighs and holding her head still with his other hand. She panicked harder at the position and her next words caused blood to run colder than the depths of the ocean and his heart stop dead.

"STOP IT! STOP! PLEASE! NO! JII-JII! NO! PLEASE!"

Now desperate to rouse her while fighting down his own horror, Mihawk abandoned all dignity and howled loudly. "Wake up Tamara! WAKE UP!"

He sensed her mind come too, her aura flared in response to his voice. And she acknowledged her current position a fraction of a second before he did. Her next scream made all others sound like child's laughter.

It was odd how, with the number of terrified voices he'd heard and caused in his life, that he'd never fully understood the term ' _bloodcurdling'_ until that moment.

 **"GET OFF! LET GO! NO! NO MORE! NO! PLEASE!"**

Her struggles against his grip took on a whole new fight, strength he hadn't known she possessed surging to the surface. Without thinking, he opened his arms and let her go. Not the best move, as she turned in blind terror, clawing at him wildly, feet kicking, limbs flailing, and he sensed the hum of a blade too late.

Mihawk grabbed her wrist right before she would have plunged her dagger into him, but her attack threw her weight against him. With him being on his knees, it knocked him to his back.

With a screaming, adrenalized, desperate women straining with every fiber of her being to tear him apart -aided by the fact that he couldn't properly see, and that Tamara really was going to hurt herself or him- his choices were limited.

He flipped her to her back and pinned her with his greater weight. She grew more agitated at that, her voice pitching higher, breaking in panic. "NO! NO! PLEASE! NO MORE! STOP!"

"Tamara! Calm yourself! It's Mihawk! I'm not going to hurt you!"

She heard nothing, beyond his voice, lost in her own mind, reacting on instinct. Mihawk debated for a moment about knocking her unconscious again, but without knowing where they were and how long they'd be underground, there was a good chance when she woke up, this would happen all over again. Besides that, the thought of physically striking her in this state made him sick to his stomach. He needed to reach her, get her to listen and calm down.

So, he did something he never expected to ever do to other woman ever again in his life. He spoke to her in his native tongue. _"Be calm, mine golden sun. No demons here linger, only scars of thine past. Hear mine voice and know thine is safe."_

Sobbing pleas stuttered at his accented volume. The twisting body paused for a moment, breathing hitched and muscle quivered, nearly relaxing for a moment. He dared to loosen his grip as he spoke, hoping he was reaching her.

 _"Betrayal this one knows well, deep does such torture flow. Raise thine head and stand strong, mine jewel of light, for thine are not alone."_

The frantic woman under him hushed, harsh gasps grew softer and he saw her aura begin to stabilize. Taking a risk, Mihawk let go of the arm not holding the dagger and shifted his weight to the side, continuing to speak the foreign words of comfort that she couldn't understand, but that were managing to penetrate the haze. He could handle a few scratches or kicks, but he wasn't getting stabbed as well as buried alive today.

* * *

Darkness was all around her. The black nothingness she'd gotten away from. And the revolting scent of spice and metal filled her nose. She reacted blindly, animal instincts driving her. The blade wasn't even registered, anything was a weapon. Anything would do, she just needed to get away, do whatever was needed to make it stop. There was a man holding her down, about to beat her, torture her, violate her...

A voice she'd never heard pieced the panic. Smooth, calm, and warm. For a moment, she thought it was her Papa's tone, but it was all wrong. Too low, too powerful, with a velvet timbre she couldn't place. It brought her senses back slowly, like waking from a dream.

She was laying down, but the weight over her was gone. Her arm was held above her head, but the other was free. Her throat was ragged, but her clothes were all on, she wasn't bare. That was more comforting than anything else. Tamara closed her eyes tightly, desperately breathing and trying to think. _I was running. Then..._

Memories returned, current ones. She registered the words spoken as being Mihawk's voice, though the accent and odd language threw her off. Then he spoke in the common tongue, questioning her,

"Tamara? Are you with me?" Was she? It was hard to tell, things were still hazy. "Speak, Little Thing. Are you with me? Tamara? "

"M-mihawk..."

"Good. Very good. I am here, come back now."

He kept speaking, comforting words she hadn't thought him capable of saying. But it didn't help much as she recalled the events from her waking. Realizing what had happened brought a fresh wave of betrayal to her and she jerked away from the Warlord suddenly, still partially caught up in panic,

"You touched me! You said you wouldn't do that, you promised!"

His voice cut off mid word and silence met her accusation. She couldn't see him, the dark pressed in and Tamara fought to stay calm, the only thing keeping her sane was lashing out.

"Yes. I did. You were frantic, you would have hurt yourself." The calm tenor of his voice held a note of what could be called an apology, but Tamara was beyond the ability to listen.

"I don't care about that! You held me down! How could you do that?! You lied to me!"

A ragged sob tore from her throat as she scrambled away, unable to handle being near him in her emotional state. A breath was taken in that she didn't hear. Her back hit a solid surface and she stopped. For a while, only her choking sniffles were heard. Tamara frantically tried to calm herself, but the inky blackness stirred up so many horrid thoughts that she was fighting hard to not scream.

Mihawk's voice broke the gloom. "You're right. I did lie, and I tainted my honor with it. I'm sorry Tamara, truly I am. It won't happen again."

He sounded sincere, remorse was evident in his voice, but she was still unsure. It was Mihawk, he'd been good to her, but her trust had been shattered before. Her voice quivered in a whisper, "I don't know if I can believe you."

"I understand. Being betrayed and used, especially by someone you trust -by family. It leaves scars that never heal. I've been there. I know what it feels like."

Tears fell down her cheeks, her heart started to calm as she finally reached out to someone that might possible be able to understand. She wondered how much she'd revealed in her chaotic state, "Does -does it get easier? Does the pain ever leave?"

"No, it doesn't get easier but with time, you can learn to live with it, teach yourself not to let it rule you. It's difficult, but I have faith you can persevere, Tamara."

Sniffling and wiping at her eyes, she finally felt herself stabilizing. He didn't question her further, only interested in helping her move forward. She'd overreacted again, she knew that. But it was hard. It was so hard.

"O-okay," she hiccuped. "I-I'm sorry too. I'm sorry I yelled at you, Mihawk-san."

"Don't be, I deserved it. And if you tell anyone I said that, I'll deny it." The rare shine of humor from the Shichibukai made a small smile cross her face.

Tamara blinked and tried hard to see him without success. "W-where are we?"

"It's most likely we've fallen into the underground catacombs of Shikkearu. The tunnels run rampant around the island."

"I guess I shouldn't have been running away, I'm sorry."

"I wasn't aware you were a geologist." There was a note of annoyance in his voice.

"Err...I'm not," she said, confused.

"Then don't apologize for something you couldn't have known about," Mihawk said, and she realized that he was referencing the tunnels in the ground. "This is hardly your fault."

Tamara heard him stand and start to move around. She let him explore for a few moments before speaking again, "Can you see anything?"

"Not in the traditional sense, but the tunnel leads further down this way. Let's move along, Little Thing."

Hearing his nickname for her was reassuring. It meant he wasn't mad at her. Or she hoped that's what it meant. Rising she sheathed her dagger as she felt along the wall, moving towards his voice, "How can you tell there's a tunnel if you can't see?"

"I can't see with my eyes, but there are other ways to view the world," he replied.

Tamara opened her mouth to answer and tripped on a rock. A yelp left her mouth as she stumbled to her knees, "Oww..."

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, but this really sucks." Steps moved closer and Tamara almost scrambled backwards,

"It would be much easier to travel if you allowed me to support you." His voice revealed that he was much closer to her than she thought.

Her heart jumped, and she instinctively curled more into herself. Like he could see her reaction, Mihawk responded quietly, "I'm not going to hurt you, Tamara."

"I-I know, it's just...give me a minute, okay?"

"Of course, Little Thing."

After a few minutes of pushing down the urge to panic, Tamara put her arms up and started blindly moving. Her fingers brushed against silk fabric and pulled away before reaching out again. Carefully pressing her hands against Mihawk's arm, she felt around till she found his elbow, then moved lower and gripped his forearm with both hands.

He didn't move during her exploration, staying perfectly still and letting her choose the pace. Once she held him, he spoke again, "Ready?"

"I think so."

"Before we move, are you going to attempt to cut me if I stop you from tripping?"

"I make no promises."

He chuckled lightly, "So I should let you stumble? Not very genteel of me."

"Last time I checked, pirates were not nice people."

"Now I believe I'm being insulted."

Tamara managed to giggle at that, though it was a higher pitch than she would have liked. The attempts at taking her mind off the situation were appreciated, it made the dark feel less oppressive. She moved with Mihawk and did stumble several times. He would raise out his arm as a solid bar for her to grab and balance on every time. In return, she didn't try to stab him again, though the urge popped up when she fell against him and inhaled the heady, masculine scent he always carried. The silenced pressed in and Tamara had to break it or risk panicking again. Through her struggles, she could sense the gentleness in the way the Warlord handled her, and she felt her heart softening.

"What language where you speaking before? I've never heard anything like it."

"You wouldn't have. It's from my homeland, very few outside the island have ever heard it."

Now she felt like she'd intruded on something sacred, but Mihawk's voice didn't hold any resentment that she could hear, "It's absolutely beautiful. You hide the accent very well."

"I've worked hard to do so. There's a barrier ahead, I need to investigate it. Stay here."

Tamara hummed in agreement as she released him and pressed against the wall. She heard Mihawk walk forward confidently and really wished she could mimic that right now.

* * *

Pressing a hand against the new problem, Mihawk felt his face crinkle in slight confusion. The new wall was different from the others in the tunnel. Newer and made of a different stone. Knocking his knuckles against it, he took a step back and unsheathed _Kogatana_.

"Step back, I need to break through this."

"Yes, Mihawk-san."

Waiting till he sensed her move away, Mihawk coated his blade in Armament Haki and slashed the air. The attack struck the obstacle, cutting through the thick granite and the sound of falling debris filled the tunnel. His nose twitched at dust fluttered about, but the rush of new air confirmed what he'd suspected.

"What is it?" He moved forward, kicking a few chucks of rock aside as he felt around the opening he'd made and stretched his senses outward,

"A room of some sort, its large. Stay here for the time, I'll ensure its safe to move through."

"A-alright..." Her voice wavered a bit.

Mihawk paused and debated reassuring her but pushed back the urge. She was scared and upset but was holding herself strong. It was a good thing and babying her wouldn't help in the long run.

Stepping into the room, he scanned it. The walls were round with a high ceiling. Unusual for a burial site. He circled the area, running fingers along the edges and found another blockage like the one he'd destroyed on the far side. A few quick slashes opened another door. Pausing to listen down the new tunnel, Mihawk almost thought he heard something.

In any case, they had another path to take now. But it was odd to him, this room and its entrances, like the pervious inhabitants of the island had attempted to seal it shut. Turning to walk straight back towards Tamara, he stopped suddenly as he sensed an obstacle. Feeling around, he found a pedestal or alter of some sort before him. There was an item on top, something that felt round and oddly patterned with a spongy texture. It tingled with faint energy.

Grabbing the mystery object, he moved around the barrier and returned to his companion.

At the sound of his steps, she spoke. "Did you find a way out?"

"Possibly. We'll have to see. Hold this, I may need both my hands free." Mihawk waited for her to feel along his arm till she grasped the object. She kept one hand on his wrist, "What is this thing?"

"I have a suspicion, but till we find some form of light, I won't be able to confirm it."

Making sure to keep his steps small enough that she could keep up, the duo moved through the room to what he hoped would be their exit. As they moved, he felt Tamara shiver beside him.

"Are you cold?"

"A-a little, but that's not it. I don't like the darkness."

He hummed in response. "The dark cannot harm, it has only the power you allow it over you."

"I know it can't hurt me...i-it's what comes out of it that I'm scared of."

That was understandable. Remembering what she'd said before he spoke softly, "The monsters of the night can be terrifying. You said before you wanted to get stronger. Keep fighting, and you'll soon fear nothing that lurks in the shadows."

"You believe I can do that?"

"I make efforts not to speak falsely, if I can help it. Especially to those who earn my regard."

A pause followed his statement before she responded, "I... thank you, Mihawk-san...that...that means a lot," she stopped suddenly, seeing something in the distance. "Oh...it's that light? I think I see something."

He'd seen the trickle of gloomy fog piercing the black a while back, but his vision was infinitely sharper than hers. Tree roots had grown through the walls and formed a twisted wooden barrier. They fell into splinters and chucks with little effort. _Kogatana_ complained a little about being used in such a fashion but was still happy to aid his master in escape.

The exit was almost buried in dirt, only a small opening on the top offered any hint that it led outside. Mihawk had to kick it several times to make a hole large enough for them to climb out. The scent of blood tinted air greeted him as he turned to offer a hand up to Tamara. She scrambled out with his help and proceeded to sit down heavily right after.

He looked around to coordinate himself as she calmed down.

They were a long way from the castle, on the east side of the island. The catacomb exit had come out under one of the large, curled hills and he could hear the ocean nearby. Looking over at Tamara, he assessed her quickly. Bruised and scraped, but not seriously hurt. That was a small miracle indeed. She looked incredibly relieved to be outside again.

Held in both hands and pressed to her chest was the item he'd retrieved. She pulled it away and studied it with him. It was a large, round, light purple fruit made up of many small teardrop-shaped components with swirl patterns, and with green leaves sprouting from the top. Tamara looked confused as she turned it in her hands,

"What is this?" Mihawk gave her a cheeky smirk, "A Devil Fruit."

She dropped it to her lap in shock. "Really?!"

"What did I say before?"

"Right, sorry." He watched her pick it back up and turn it in inspection before standing up to offer it back to him, "Here. You found it, so you should get to eat it."

Mihawk snorted and shook his head. "I've no need of such a thing."

Waving a hand for her to follow, he started to walk towards the ocean. They could circle along the beach till they got closer to the castle. She fell in a step behind him, still puzzled and holding the large pineapple shaped fruit, "You don't want it? Won't eating a Devil Fruit make you much stronger than you already are?"

"It likely would and if I'd found one in my younger years, I may very well have eaten it. But I've earned my place and my title on my own strength. Consuming a cursed fruit would make my struggles and efforts been in vain and I would hate myself for it. Besides that, I happen to enjoy being able to swim. You eat it, if you wish."

Tamara went silent and seemed to be thinking very hard. They made it to the water and Mihawk glanced around before walking left. She followed, still staring at the fruit in her hands.

"It, changes you, right? It gives you great power, but makes the sea hate you. Does -do people become different when they eat one?"

"Sometimes. Depending on the fruit, personalities can be altered to take on the powers given. Some people become more aggressive, physiologies can change, most definitely fighting abilities are altered. The individual always grows stronger in some way. It would be a large step in helping you adapt to the Grand Line."

They made it to the dock after a while. Tamara hadn't said anything else on the journey, caught up in her own thoughts. He turned to lead her back to the castle and paused at the look on her face. She sniffed the fruit, seeming to be preparing to take a bite.

Then something changed.

A look of determination and valor crossed her face. She glared at the purple skinned ball before marching to the end of the floating wooden dock. Cranking her arm back, Tamara flung the Devil Fruit as hard as she could, watching the arching movement and splash as it fell into the ocean. Mihawk stared in shock as she turned and walked back to him, a question on his face.

She looked grimly back and when she spoke, his heartbeat increased a little,

"I don't want an easy fix, a cheat, or an excuse. And I sure as hell don't want to change who I am just because...because of one betrayal, however deep it is. I want to move forward on my own strength, be able to be like you. Eating a Devil Fruit negates that, make you overconfident and lazy. And I like swimming too. Someone else can have it."

A remarkable woman. There were very few people who would have turned down the opportunity to consume a Devil Fruit. They were rare prizes, powers said to be given by Satan and sought after by all. He was an exception, and so was she. He felt his lips turn in an actual smile as he looked over her.

Yes, he could admit that he did truly respect her. The clenching in his chest was made more sense now. He might be able to acknowledge it now.

"Let's go home, Little Thing."

"Yes, Mihawk-san."

* * *

It's strange how seemingly random events can all be connected. Actions and repercussions are always being pulled and plucked on, twisting in paths none can predict or hope to understand. For even as one brave soul rejects something, another accepts and send into motion actions that can change lives and futures.

Below the surface, a passing sea creature traveled through the ocean. It spotted a smaller fish and snapped it into its jaws, surprised at a sting of pain. Then it was above the water and knew no more.

"Haul it in! That's a big one!"

The mid-size ship bobbed in the water happily. On the deck several men pulled on rope line, yanking up the dead fish. Behind them, a tall man with a light brown pompadour hairstyle stepped forward to aid his men in bring up their meal for the night.

Once the beast was sprawled out over the deck, the crew started to harvest the meat. The tall man walked passed the large spikes on its back and stopped, bending down to dig under the once deadly bone tusks.

When he stood again, a familiar purple fruit was in his hands. One of his subordinates froze and excitedly spoke up, "I'll be damned Commander! It's that what I think it is?"

A jovial smile crossed his face as he rotated the item he held. "Looks like it, a genuine Devil Fruit, who'd have guessed it."

Around the 4th Division Commander, others gathered and awed over the find. "You gonna eat it Thatch? Oyaji's rules say you're the only one who can, seeing as you found it."

Above the ship, a flying Jolly Roger with a large mustache and a cross behind it flapped proudly in the wind.

Yes...it's strange how events are all connected. For far away on a gloomy island, a young woman would never know what her action had set in motion and how things might have been different had she chosen something else. And deep in the New World, a hot-headed man could never have predicted how that one small decision could change so much.

For in the end, the threads of Fate bind everyone and everything, even in the most minuscule ways.

* * *

 **Phew, well this is officially the longest chapter yet. And to those that caught it, yes, Tamara and Mihawk found the _Yami Yami no Mi_ first. It made sense to me that the fruit of darkness would be on Kuraigana Island, seeing as the translation is _'Hecka Dark'._**

 **I hope everyone liked the little side insert of the Whitebeard Pirates and as always I hope you enjoy.**


	9. Round 2: Gardens and Games

**Hello again, Angel here.**

 **So I'm totally physced about the number of reviews and the sheer amount of support I've gotten. A few shout outs I must acknownledge.**

 **Kmbrun and AllyCatt12 , love that your sticking with me. Your words make my day.**

 **Coolfire30: Don't ever let anyone tell you that your reviews are too emotive. Honestly, your over the top words powered me through Chapter 10. That's right...we are going to keep going, this baby is not going to die.**

 **So just a heads up. This chapter is mostly fluff between Tamara and Mihawk, with some minor looks into their devolpment and backstories.**

 **Really hope everyone enjoys and a thanks again to C.S Skywalker for helping me out with this one.**

* * *

The long-handled hoe cut into the hard ground. The unyielding dirt refused to let the tool through, making her grunt in irritation and strike again. With her hair tied back and beads of sweat forming on her forehead, Tamara was pretty sure this activity was a better work out in the long run. Sparring with Mihawk had nothing on good old fashion manual labor.

It didn't help that Kuraigana was having one of its rare _"sunny"_ days -stray streams of light piercing through the gloomy clouds and heating up the environment. But it did make it easier to see what she was doing. Otherwise, she might have had to find some lanterns to illuminate the area.

She'd found the abandoned outdoor plaza weeks ago during her first explorations of the castle, though she hadn't dared leave the house then, merely glancing at it from the veranda doorway. At the time, she'd thought nothing about it, although the long-dead plants and shrubs made her a little sad. Tamara was sure at one point the terrace was beautiful, but now it looked abysmal and creepy.

Pushing away a stray piece of hair, she sighed and set the tool aside. Bending down to pick up a bucket, Tamara knelt and started yanking at the rotting stems of the previous greenery, fighting down a wince when the sharp ends poked at her skin.

"I really should have picked up gloves on Redemption," she muttered to herself.

"That would have been wise."

Yelping in surprise at the voice, Tamara jolted to the side, falling on her backside as she whipped her head towards the sound. Mihawk stood leaning against one of the large stone planters with arms crossed over his chest while holding an unopened bottle of wine in one hand. He had a smirk on his face that Tamara was only now able to detect after her long stay with him.

Scowling in annoyance, both at him and herself for not sensing him -not that she would have been able to- Tamara righted herself and started working again, "I've asked you not to do that, Mihawk-san."

"You have, but I do recall someone saying pirates were not known for being cordial."

"Maybe you should lead by example," she replied cheekily.

A low chuckle came from Mihawk in response as he walked closer. "Depending on whom you ask, I believe I already do."

It was becoming more of a common occurrence in their conversations for her to sass the Shichibukai, especially since they'd started her training. After all, it was hard to be polite and respectful all the time when one was getting flung all over the place. Granted, after her falling session, Mihawk had been tutoring her more on actual techniques. Yet all of them tended to involved her attacking him at some point, which didn't generally end well on her part. However, she was feeling more confident in her ability to protect herself, so that was something. Mihawk let her pick the pace of her training, not attempting to push her for more than she was willing to do. Tamara would indicate that she wanted to work with him by wearing pants and a long sleeve shirt at breakfast, and about an hour after the morning meal, the two would meet up and begin whatever lesson he felt like teaching her that day.

The other reason she was willing to verbally spar with the Shichibukai was that he didn't seem to care. In fact, Tamara swore sometimes he encouraged it, given that he would actively participate.

"You call slicing ships on a regular basis leading by example?" she said.

"I am not most people, Little Thing, you should well know that by now," Mihawk reached to where she was doing her gardening. "What are you doing out here?"

Nearly finished with the bed, Tamara pulled out a few loose roots and replied distractedly, "Replenishing the soil, it needs more nutrients to before I can grow anything in it."

Standing up, she walked over to a large pail a few feet away and upended the contents. Potato peels, coffee grounds, vegetable greens, and other organic compounds poured out of the rather heavy looking pail. Setting it aside, Tamara grabbed a narrow spade and started mixing the contents into the loosen dirt. Mihawk had taken a seat on a nearby stone bench and was watching her curiously.

"You actually believe you can get anything to thrive in this war-ravaged earth?" he asked.

Satisfied with the mixed bed, Tamara started working on one of the planters. It had probably had some type of Liliaceae, as the leftover stems were long and hollow. She snapped the lengthy flora and dug at the dirt.

"Of course," she said, feeling the grains of dirt beneath her fingers. "The trees grow, and so do the grass and vines. Just because there isn't a lot of sunshine doesn't mean plants can't do well. I can prioritize shade tolerant shrubs and flowers to start with," she was starting to get on a roll. "I bet Hostas would do great. And their foliage is beautiful, so many different colors. I've also read about roses that grow well in darker conditions," her voice trailed off into thought. "Oh, that would be so wonderful! And on the trellises, I could put Morning Glories -or, no that wouldn't work, they need more light. Maybe Sweet Peas would be better, they're hardier. Also-"

Her rampant babbling was cut off by a guffaw from Mihawk. Glancing at him, Tamara saw the Shichibukai smiling. _Actually_ smiling. Realizing she'd been running her mouth, Tamara paused in her work and blushed a bit and glanced away yet continuing to look at him from the corner of her eye.

"Sorry," she said, embarrassed.

Mihawk shook his head. "Don't be. I haven't seen that much passion from you in some time. It's refreshing. You seem to know much about flowers and plants -have you had a garden before?"

Tamara nodded and continued to dig out the dead roots. "My mother grew a spectacular garden. It had everything; aster, lupines, daisies. The roses were my favorite, so many colors, and all the different languages they spoke."

"How do flowers speak?" he sounded annoyed and mildly confused.

She giggled a bit. It felt good to know something he didn't. Normally he was the one with all the answers.

"All flowers can talk. Not in a literal sense, of course, though from what you've told me about the Grand Line, it wouldn't surprise me at all if some of them did. It's the symbolism that they carry that matters. And the color is also a part of it. Two of the same flowers can mean many different things depending on their color. Each flower has its own unique meaning and emotion attached to it. For example, lilies purity and refined beauty. White lilies are known for modesty and virginity, and orange lilies for passion."

A bit of a long silence followed her explanation as Mihawk absorbed all the information. She grunted in frustration as a particularly large rock refused to be moved. Finally, she got it out and tossed it aside, swiping a hand over her forehead to remove a layer of perspiration.

"Come to sit for a bit and rest, Little Thing."

Tamara glanced over and saw him pour two glasses of wine from his bottle. It was funny, she hadn't noticed him carrying those. She looked back at the pile of dirt on the ground, knowing that she shouldn't, but the bottle of wine looked so tempting, she couldn't resist. Tamara dusted off her hands on her skirt and walked over. Mihawk set the long-stemmed chalice on the bench beside him and shifted over to give her more room. He'd been doing that more lately, taking pains to avoid crowding her or creating situations where he might accidentally touch her. Tamara guessed he was still feeling guilty about what happened in the catacombs, even though she'd forgiven him for it.

Picking up the glass, she sat on the hard surface, still engrossed in her remodeling efforts. Some cushions would be needed to make it more comfortable, but the view would be lovely -that is, once she got the planters cleaned out and filled with fresh life. She took a sip of the wine, thinking about what part to tackle next. Maybe the west side, it had a lot of debris that needed to be moved.

Her thoughts ground to a sudden halt as the matured grape liquid touched her tongue.

It was _incredible_. The flavors exploded on her taste buds -smooth, rich and decadent. There was no alcoholic sensation of burning, only a tingling of absolute delight. Tamara hummed against her will, a noise that some might have called a moan before she caught herself and swallowed the mouthful of heaven she'd just experienced.

Clamping a hand to her lips, Tamara stared at the glass in shock before looking at Mihawk, who looked like a cat that had just caught a canary. She felt her face flame at the look but was too caught up in the moment to care about her embarrassment.

"Oh my God, what is this?" she exclaimed. "It's like someone managed to bottle every drop of happiness and ecstasy ever experienced by humanity. My God, this is amazing." Tamara risked taking another small sip and closed her eye as the taste flowed across nerve receptors.

Mihawk laughed softly through his nose, "Of course it is. _Ambrosia_ ; one of the most difficult to come by vintages. Even in my collection, I only have a few bottles. Most are bought out by nobles in Mariejois, so the general public has limited access."

Tamara's eyes snapped open and she stared at the Warlord, who was now looking out over the terrace into the trees. She swallowed and thought hard about her next words.

"Why are you sharing such a rare vintage with me? You should be savoring this yourself, Mihawk-san."

He didn't answer right away, choosing to take his own mouthful of the angel touched liquid.

Finally, he spoke, somewhat quiet and wistful in his tone. "I've been finding recently that it's far more enjoyable to partake in the small pleasures of life with someone else. Even if that someone does insist on tearing up the grounds of my castle."

She felt both touched by the statement and also annoyed. She figured that was what he was going for. Tamara also wondered briefly if he was still trying to apologize to her in some way. Regardless, she scowled at him in an almost friendly manner before taking another drink. Against her will, she relaxed into the bench, tilting her head back and staring at the sky, feeling at ease in his presence and lost in her own thoughts.

* * *

"It'll be beautiful when I'm done. You'll want to be out here all the time," she said.

Mihawk glanced at the young women reclining beside him. She was content and calm. He was glad about that. There'd been times since the cave in where she'd flinched or shifted uncomfortably while near him, making him cringe inwardly with guilt.

"You believe you can make this area grow life?" he asked.

"Life thrives in all conditions, Mihawk-san. It lives in the bitter cold of winter and the scorching heat of deserts. It wants to exist, fights to do so in some cases. One only needs to believe it can be done to make it so. My Papa taught me that," she paused, seeming to realize what she'd said and flushed, "You must think me silly for believing that."

"Don't presume to know my thoughts, Little Thing. It's not foolish to have such a whimsical mind, it suits you well. Truthfully, you'd make a good pirate."

She turned towards him and confusion filled her face. "Eh? How do you figure that? I have a hard enough time learning to defend myself, let alone trying to hurt someone else."

Mihawk smirked a bit. It wasn't unexpected, her expectations of the pirate cliché. The World Government worked hard to maintain the image that pirates were the scum of the earth, deadly bloodthirsty devils seeking only to rip apart the fragile peace they upheld. To be fair, on some level, they were correct. He'd experienced the time of Gold Roger's era and as such, felt the need to correct Tamara's viewpoint. Besides that, it was a bit bothersome to him to think she might see him in that light, even if only for a moment.

"Causing harm or discord is not the pirate way," he said. "Or not how it should be seen, though some of these young rookies sailing about are truly vile creatures. Yes, if an obstacle is in the way, any pirate worth their name will remove it. But the purpose behind choosing to be a pirate is not to disrupt or damage the world. It is simply having the right to choose how you live without boundaries or limits."

She was quiet for a time, sipping her wine and thinking deeply. "So being a pirate is just wanting to live in freedom?"

Mihawk nodded.

She shrugged. "I guess that's a good reason to be one."

"You lived on an island not allied with the World Government, didn't you Little Thing?"

She shook her head in affirmation. "I did. Sanguine is a very small island. If you counted all the outlying houses and families, there's probably only about 300 people on it. It doesn't have a magnetic field, so finding the peninsula is kind of hard. I just always figured the Government didn't care about having such a tiny populace under their flag."  
He leaned back, understanding more about the young woman beside him. Her personality made sense now like how she could be so carefree sometimes. Her clever mind and education were more of a mystery now though. Such small exposure shouldn't have given her the knowledge she had.

"So you grew up not knowing repression or discrimination. You're very fortunate, not many get that kind of upbringing," he said.

As he looked at her from the corner of his eyes, Mihawk saw her bite her lip in hesitation. It took a few moments for her to respond and he was well aware that she'd stifled the true question she wanted to ask. It was an unspoken agreement between them. Neither would pry into the others personal life. He was actually a bit surprised she'd spoken about her home island. Surprised, but also glad. She was opening up more, for one such as her, someone so guarded, it meant something.

Then again, he was far worst in that aspect.

"You sound like you're speaking from experience. Is that why you became a pirate, Mihawk-san?" her question made him pause and carefully consider his answer.  
"In a way. I choose to forge my own path, to not be bound by expectations of others or forced into a life I didn't want."

Tamara hummed in thought. "That's good to hear. I'm glad. I'd hate for you to be unhappy."

Mihawk jolted a bit at her words, his wine sloshing in the glass. It was an innocent statement, she was too busy studying the terrace to notice how she'd affected him. But she had. She'd pierced him deeply with her words. She was only the second woman he'd ever known to be concerned with his happiness. The last one who had-

He crushed the thought, feeling pain clench in his chest. It had been a long time since Maria had crossed his mind.

"My welfare is not something you need to concern yourself with," he said, curtly. He didn't mean for the words to come out with such a harsh tone and the slight flinch she responded with made him regret the statement.

She recovered quickly, leaning her head back again and staring into the splitting clouds above. "I know. But I will anyway. There's really nothing you can do to stop it either."

Quick to forgive. She really was a lot like Shanks. Maybe that was the reason he'd asked her to stay with him.

Noticing that Tamara had emptied her glass, he refilled it. She smiled in delight, cheeks partially flushed. Yes, she was probably slightly drunk, given her small stature and the fact that she didn't drink heavily, but he was enjoying the looseness of her tongue and calm shine of her golden aura.

She started to kick her feet and his eyes were drawn to the bare toes wiggling in the air. He sighed in exasperation. Tamara looked over at him, noticing his gaze and grinned cheekily,

"Oh relax, my sandals are over there." Stubby foot digits point towards the discarded aforementioned shoes.

Mihawk leaned an elbow over the bench's back which partly turned him towards her. "That does little good if the items are not on your feet. Have you always had an obsession with running around barefoot?"

"I like to feel the earth under my feet and my fingers in the dirt. It's a botanist thing."

Mihawk snorted softly as he raised his glass up. "I'm quite certain it's more of your thing."

She laughed out loud, the sound tingling through the dead gardens. "Maybe. You should try it sometime."

The look he gave her in return had her giggling again as she sipped her beverage once more. "You know, I could probably get grape vines to grow here too. Never worked with them before, but I could give it a shot. You could try your hand at making your own wine then."

"Why would I want to do that?" he snorted.

Tamara looked at him with mischief dancing in her eyes. "Everyone needs a hobby, right?"

Despite himself, her playfulness made him smirk a little, sarcasm filling his tone. "And slicing up warships doesn't count?"

"Depends who you ask, I guess. Besides, you can't say you wouldn't be curious about what you'd get in the end. God knows you have the knowledge to make it, just need the supplies. You might get a really good batch."

She made a point, though Mihawk suspected his inherit laziness might be a factor in her master plan. He didn't say that out loud. There was a good chance she already knew that anyway, so he simple hummed his normal response.

That caused her to grin in childish glee. She raised her glass towards him. "Well then, to new beginnings, wherever they may lead."

Humoring her, he clicked the rim of his crystal globe to hers. The musical ting echoed through the air before both drank.

* * *

It was important to remain calm and clear-headed. This was an extreme challenge and given the target, one that would be hard to triumph over. But it was necessary. She would not be beaten, not lay down and just give up. It was unacceptable. And she had a perfect response.

"Never have I ever fired a gun."

Golden eyes blinked, and a handsomely angled face tilted in curious thought. "Does a cannon count?"

"Can you shoot it alone?"

"If required, though it is much easier with aid."

Tamara shrugged carelessly, trying not to be disappointed. "I guess so then."

Mihawk's glass raised and he took a drink of the ruby wine.

Night had fallen on Kuraigana and the two residences had moved inside. Once more, the duo was in the lounge room, though it was a very different seating arrangement than normal. Yes, there was a green fire burning in the hearth, but in front of the said fire was a large fur rug upon which Tamara was sprawled out on her belly.

Her companion chose to remain in his armchair, though he'd dragged in an ottoman that his long legs were currently resting on. One of the low tables normally kept beside the chairs had been moved to rest between them and currently held a partially eaten platter of cheeses, grapes, and crackers.

She wasn't really sure how they'd ended up in this spot. After sharing the divine _Ambrosia_ vintage in the garden, Mihawk had insisted that Tamara come inside. She'd protested, then stood up and wobbled on her feet. Hence, she'd been marched into the current room and told to wait.

He'd left and come back with the tray of food and another bottle of wine. Obviously, her cooking dinner tonight was off the table. To her surprise, over the munching of appetizers he'd brought in and random conversation, the Warlord had suggested an activity.

She was actually playing a game with a Shichibukai.

The rules were simple. Say something that you'd never done and that you believed your opponent had also not performed. If it was true, they wouldn't take a drink of liquor. If they had done the deed, then the opposite would happen. It was also a great way to learn more about someone. The game was difficult, seeing as he was so well traveled and had seen so much, and she was the complete opposite, but that was what made it fun.

Tamara was disappointed after her cannon question. She had been hoping that Mihawk, as a melee fighter, wouldn't have handled combustible, long-range weapons. Evidently, she was wrong.

"When did you have time to shoot a cannon? Didn't you travel alone before becoming a Shichibukai?" she kicked her feet behind her while munching on a cracker with a slice of aged cheddar on top.

"For the most part, but I did end up being ferried from time to time on ships with larger crews, which would undoubtedly get into trouble. Hence, learning to operate an explosive weapon was somewhat required."

She rested her chin on her hand. "That makes sense. You were never tempted to join those crews?"

He paused again, looking over her back into the fire. "Sometimes, but inevitably they'd start to annoy me, or they were too weak to survive in the Grand Line. Or they tried to make me their Captain, which I opposed. So I left them behind."

"You never wanted to be a Captain? How come?"

He took a bit to answer, so much so that Tamara almost spoke up to retracted the statement. But Mihawk didn't like it when she did that, so she forced herself to be patient.

"Being the head of a crew means that you alone are responsible for those under you," he finally answered. "While many on the seas today see subordinates as mere pawns to be sacrificed, those that truly bear the pirate flag know otherwise. A crew is a family, its honor and its life. To lose such a thing breaks even the strongest of men. I simply did not wish to be placed in such a position."

Tamara decided not to comment on that. There was a note in his voice that spoke of something much deeper, but her alcohol tinted mind couldn't really process it well. Instead, she waved a hand at him. "Your turn."

Mihawk smirked almost devilishly and Tamara fought down a giggle at the thought that he looked incredibly hot with that look on his face. She was drunk and aware of it but currently was in the warm, comfortable spot where the world was a lovely, peaceful place. Everything everyone did was funny as hell.

After a few moments of thought, he finally spoke. "Never have I ever, started a tavern brawl."

"Oh, come on, really?" Tamara didn't bother hiding the skepticism in her voice.

He clicked his tongue and waved a single finger back and forth."Nuh-uh-uh, Little Thing. I did specifically state begin. I assure you I've finished many a number of fights in barrooms and otherwise."

She paused after that comment. "Fair point."

Tamara shifted and grabbed her glass, pressing lips to the rim and taking a deep swallow. The second bottle Mihawk had picked wasn't nearly as good as the Ambrosia, but it was still wonderful. In her hazy state, she'd completely forgotten the name.

At her action, the male quirked an eyebrow. "Now where did that come from, I wonder? Or are you the one showing little white fibs now?"

She moved the wine aside and stuck her tongue out at Mihawk. "Am not. Some merchant's boat came to the island and one of the crew was this prissy little high-handed jerk. Mother's flowers were decorating the flowers in the tavern and he started running his mouth about how her flowers were garbage and should be thrown out. Papa was going to cold cock him anyway. I just happened to get there first. Stomped on his foot and told him to shut up. He screamed like a girl. I still remember it."

"And what happened after that?"

"One of the waitresses bundled me up and rushed us out as the whole bar went head to head. Merchants verse locals, I was told it was awesome. Papa came home a few hours later with a black eye. We weren't allowed back in the Yellow Snapper for a month."

Mihawk chuckled deeply at the story, looking highly amused. Tamara grinned back, lost in the moment of bonding between them.

Shifted to her elbows and grabbing a handful of grapes, she presented her next question, "Never have I ever dyed my hair."

The black-haired male actively paused and didn't move for some time. He remained quiet for a bit before raising his glass and taking a drink.

Tamara squealed in scandalous delight, squirming in her place as though she'd just read the steamy part of a smut novel. "No way! What color? And was it your whole head or just part?"

"That is something I intend to take to my grave," Mihawk's voice was deadpan and flat, which only made Tamara more amused.

Slumping onto the soft fur, she pouted prettily at the Warlord before muttering, "Spoilsport."

He chuckled in response. "I'm sure you'll survive, Little Thing."

* * *

Looking over her as she lounged in front of the fire like a human size cat, Mihawk ignored the nagging thought that Tamara appeared very fetching in her current position. He may have had just a tad too much wine tonight. As he studied her, the young woman buried her face in the velvety rug, shoulders shaking as she muffled tittering giggles in the fibers.

He could only guess at what her innocently drunken mind must have drawn up from his last response. Surprisingly, he wasn't upset or embarrassed that she might be imagining him with fuchsia colored hair, or whatever it was that had her so gleeful.

It was somewhat of a surprise to him that he was enjoying this little exchange. Over the last few days, Mihawk had realized just how little he knew about his guest. Overall, it didn't bother him much, but he did want to know a bit more. He was sure Shanks would be rolling on the floor in stitches if he knew that Mihawk was using the game he'd forced him to participate in. Normally, it was played in a much more explicate fashion, with the sole purpose to embarrass someone else.

And in some ways, it was being used like that.

Finally, she got control of herself and rested her chin on folded hands, looking at him expectantly. Amused, Mihawk humored her.

"Never have I ever broken a bone," he said. Tamara arched an eyebrow and he corrected his words. "Excluding the last few months, of course."

Her expression changed to tipsy delight, a smirk dancing on the edge of her lips as she took a healthy draw from her glass

"How old were you?" He leaned back into his chair.

"Mmm, nine maybe ten. I fell off the chapel roof and broke my collar bone," she said, nonchalantly.

His expression shifted to mild alarm. "Why were you on the roof?"

Tamara didn't seem to find his concern necessary and airily replied, "There was a nest of baby falcons in the bell tower, I wanted to see them. The baby's mom didn't appreciate my attempts and dive bombed me so, I slipped and fell off. Papa grounded me for a week after that. Mother made me swear to never climb again."

"Did it work?"

"For a month or so. Then, I wanted to eat the apples of the neighbors' tree. I didn't fall that time."

Mihawk threw his head back and loosed a hardy laugh before schooling himself, "So the moral is to not trust what you say if you want something, is that it?"

"Depends, but that's probably a safe assumption. I'm told I can be a stubborn person."

"Perish the thought." Tamara stuck her tongue out again at his sarcastic tone, but her blue eyes were sparkling in hilarity.

He chuckled again, reaching over to grab a slice of cheese himself. The small platter of food was likely the only reason Tamara wasn't passed out from the amount of alcohol she'd consumed. As it was, she probably wouldn't be awake for much longer.

She pressed one finger against her lips in thought, tapping the digit and drawing his eye unintentionally. They were stained a dark red from the wine, making them look lush and appealing. Mihawk shook off the unwanted thought as Tamara finally stated her next question,

"Never have I ever kissed a man." She looked quite pleased by her statement and added quickly, "Family doesn't count, by the way."

"Are you referring to a woman in your case?"

"No, I've done that already." Mihawk fought down a jolt at the mental image of Tamara locking lips with a female that suddenly bombarded him. Disciplined as he may be, he was still male.

"I beg your pardon?" he asked quickly.

She grinned cheekily at his confusion. "What? Haven't you ever been caught under the mistletoe during the Winter Solstice celebrations?"

The tradition of the hanging of holly and the lovers embrace that partook under the plant during the holiday was something he knew about. He felt some relief at her words, though he didn't know why.

"Ah, that makes more sense. And no, I've never partaken in the Solstice festivities," he said coolly.

Tamara looked mildly horrified at that news. "Never? Oh you poor thing, you don't know what you've missed. Sanguine always had the best celebrations. Trees decorated, candles and lights lit, food for miles. And the singing and dancing, exchanging gifts -it's so much fun."

He chuckled at the enthusiasm, but kept his glass resting on the arm of his chair. "So you've kissed a female but not a male? Why is that?"

It struck him as odd. Tamara wasn't his preferred type of women, but she certainly wasn't unattractive. He watched her shrug like it wasn't a big issue.

"Mmm...never had anyone ask. There was this one boy who invited me out to dinner on my 18th birthday, but I never got over him pulling my hair and pushing me in the mud when I was 9, so I said no. Otherwise, I guess I've just been too busy to worry about that kind of thing. Are you going to drink ?"

"Certainly not, I can assure you, no male has ever been that close to me and live to tell about it."

Tamara's expression shifted to triumph and she rolled to her back, pumping her fist in the air. "Yes! Point for me!"

She rolled back over and fell into another round of drunken giggles. He smirked and looked on in amusement. Seeing her so relaxed and playful was contagious, she somehow managed to bring out a side in him that only an extremely rare few were ever privy to.

"If that's how you intended to play, I would have won long ago, Little Thing."

"You still have to follow the rules. No trying to see if I've met Mermaids or seen candy rain, that's cheating."

Mihawk laughed out loud again, " _Wahhahaha_! Do I need to once more remind you that I am a pirate first and foremost? Rules are somewhat of a useless barrier to me."

A pout formed on her wine kissed lips as she flopped into the rug again. "Now you're just being smug. Big meanie."

She was on the verge of falling asleep where she was. Her aura was waning and blue eyes were getting heavy with fatigue. For a few moments, he debated asking if he could move her, then passed the thought off. The fire was warm and he could stoke it before retiring so she'd be comfortable. Chances were good she was going to wake up with a killer headache anyway.

Rising, he walked over to the long couch and pulled off a thick blanket off the back. Returning to Tamara, who was almost completely asleep, Mihawk took great care to not make contact as he gently covered her with the throw. Sapphire orbs blinked up at him tiredly as he shifted to pick up her empty glass and set it on the table,

"You didn't ask me one," she softly slurred out.

"I doubt you'd be able to answer anyway, Little Thing. Go to sleep."

Tamara hummed in response and snuggled into the fur bed contently. "Mmm...I'm gonna ask you one then."

He smiled softly as he shifted back into his armchair, taking a long swallow from his glass. "Alright."

As she started to drift off, her hooded eyes locked with his. Even as far away as her glazed look was, he felt his chest clench a bit. Then she spoke.

"Never have I ever...seen eyes as beautiful as yours..."

Mihawk physically jerked at that, staring down at the now fully asleep women. His heartbeat increased and he had to forcibly bite back a curse. For a long while, he simply remained in place and listened to her breathing.

Finally, he shook himself and stood up. It meant nothing, she was drunk and speaking nonsense. Hell, she probably wouldn't remember half the things she said come morning. He looked over at the doorway, then glanced again at the resting blond on the floor before walking to the couch.

Stretching out and getting comfortable, while hearing Tamara's soft puffs of breathing, he calmed his mind and let sleep take him, convinced he was only resting here because he was too lazy to climb the stairs to his room.

* * *

 **And there we go. I've never written any kind of fluff before, so I hope I did alright with it. I'll leave this chapter up for a while and be working hard on the next ones. Thanks again all and leave reviews if you liked it.**


	10. Speak From the Heart

**Hey Everyone, back again.**

 **Loving the support I'm getting and thanks again for everyone who's been so patient. Hoping everyone likes this chapter. As some of you might have guessed, I have a bit of a love of cliffhangers.**

 **Yah, I know, you can hate me for it, but I think its fun, XD**

 **In any case, enjoy and leave reviews if you like.**

 **Once more a huge shout out to my buddy C.S Skywalker, who is making sure my work is flowing well and sounds good. Couldn't have done this without you my friend.**

* * *

For a long while, Tamara didn't want to move.

She stared up at the ceiling of her bedroom, eyes distance and debated going back to sleep, but this had been the day she'd picked out. Even knowing that it was hard to motivate herself to get up.

It was Virgil who finally stimulated her, by walking over her belly and sitting on her sternum, looking down with his slit eyes.

"Yeah, yeah...I'm up."

He mewed in response, moving off her and jumping to the floor. The little kitten was larger now, growing into his body and showing long muscular legs and sleek black fur shiny with health. He reminded Tamara of a small panther.

Sighing heavily, she folded the covers off and sat up. Swinging her legs over she stood up and pulled down the material of her silk calf-length nightgown. Shivering as the chilly air hit her shoulders, she slipped on a matching housecoat. Then she spent a few minutes simply standing in place.

Blue eyes slowly looked over at the full backpack on the floor by the door. Teeth caught a lip and she almost turned and climbed back into bed. But she'd set the date and now she had to go through with this. It was needed, she had to do this. Otherwise, she'd never move forward.

Another weighted puff of air exited her lips as she turned and rummaged through the closet for some clothes. Pulling out a strapless long black dress with dark red trim, Tamara walked slowly towards the bathroom to get ready.

Once cleaned and dressed, she slipped on an ankle-length black coat with a slit down the back that ended at her hips and picked up the resting pack, swinging it onto her shoulders. Sliding her dagger into its normal place at her back, she finished off her preparation by pushing her feet into a pair of black flat-heeled shoes. Tamara opened the door to her room and looked over her shoulder,

"Virgil, come."

The still baby cat meowed softly and padded over. Bending down, she scooped him up and lifted the feline to her torso. Familiar with the move, Virgil planted paws on her and walked behind her head, balancing on both her shoulders and the pack on her back.

Her steps echoed through the ghostly corridors of the castle as she walked. The sound was mournful and hollow, just like her. She didn't bother bringing a candle with her on this trip. Besides, at this point, she knew most of the common routes of the estate by heart anyway.

As Tamara came to the front entryway, she paused and debated going to the kitchen. Mihawk would be expecting breakfast. Shaking her head, she kept walking forward. The Warlord could fend for himself, he'd done so for years without her.

Outside the cold was worst. Pulling the coat tighter around her, Tamara mused that she'd definitely picked a good day. Dreary, bleak, and black; perfect conditions if ever there were any. Continuing to walk away from the castle, she pushed down the fear the started to surface.

Dark trees enveloped her, and silence filled the air. Part of her tried to desperately convince her to rush back to the castle. Tamara pushed down that part of her and scanned the murky undergrowth. Weeds, long grasses, and vines -not what she wanted. Yet somewhere there had to be some; she just needed to look harder.  
Then she saw what she wanted. Despite herself, a small smile flitted across her lips.

A clearing came into view; old broken debris filled the former battlefield, stray swords and broken armor littered the ground. At one time, she was sure the Kingdom had been lovely. Briefly, Tamara wondered what the Shikkearu's war had been over. Men fought for any number of reasons -though power and money were the most common. In any case, it was done. None of her concern now.

A massive wooden cross decorated the middle of the aged carnage struck area, so tall that looking up at it made her a little dizzy. Heading towards it, Tamara found a flatten portion of rubble and dusted off the top. On her back, Virgil jumped off and circled around the area, though he remained close to her.

Slinging off the pack, she unzipped the top. Reaching inside, Tamara whipped out a long square of white cloth, spreading it over the flat rock. Digging around again, she grasped two small saucer-like cups and a ceramic flask. Setting one cup on the opposite side of the cloth and one on her side, Tamara filled each one with a bit of the sake she'd brought.

Setting the flask down, she sat crossed legged and placed the small bundle of purple Fireweed flowers she'd picked in the forest by the lonely cup. The last item retrieved was a simple white candle. Setting it in the middle of the makeshift table, Tamara struck a match and lit the wick. For a long while, Tamara simply sat in silence. Then she finally picked up her cup and raised it towards the vacant seat,

"I know it has been a while. A lot happened, and I -I haven't had a lot of time. Well, no, that's not really true. I have had time, I just...haven't wanted to do this. I-I didn't want to say goodbye..." Tears started to form in her eyes as she spoke softly to the still air. Even the wind had died down, seeming to sense that silence was needed. Tamara forced herself to keep speaking,

"It's hard, you know. Harder than I ever really thought it'd be. I never thought you'd ever not be there. After Mother passed, you just became everything. You were always there, always the strong one. I never felt like I needed to become anything more...because you'd always be behind me, helping me, protecting me, supporting me. I just-"

Drops of water fell down and moist spots formed on her skirt. The hand that held the sake wavered and the liquid quiver in the small cup. A loud sniffle came from her direction.

Her voice trembled as she moved on. "You always said I was one true treasure. Mother and me, we were everything to you. But I never told you that you were everything to me too. You taught me so much, how to walk, how to climb, how to punch Flett in the lip for being a jerk. You always tried my cooking experiments, even when they came out horrible. Remember the time I tried to make onigiri. We didn't have any nori, so I tried to use lettuce instead. And used pepper instead of salt. It must have been awful tasting, but you just smiled and told me it was good."

A watery smile touched her lips as the words kept pouring out. "I honestly don't know if this is going to help at all. But I can't keep living in the past. When Mother passed, and we stood by her grave together, you told me that she'd always be with us. Always be near so long as we remembered her. I do remember her, and I'm glad you two are together again. But Papa…I miss you...I miss you so much."

Setting down the cup on the cloth, she let her shoulder shake as the sobs took hold of her. Grief and pain flooded ever sound as memories, both happy and sad flitted through her mind. She saw her father teaching her to write, patently moving her fingers as she struggled to form the kanji. His worried face when she'd come home coated in mud, the joy in his eyes when she blew out the candles on her birthday cake. The pleading desperation in the brown eyes as red liquid poured from his dying body while fire licked the walls and powerful arms dragged her away.

Sorrow poured out like the rice wine she'd served. Beside her, Virgil pressed close and purred as hard as he could, trying to comfort her in the only way he knew how. Tamara placed her free hand on her pet, letting the rumbles vibrate through her palm and stroked the baby soft fur. After a long while, the sobs grew quieter and clarity started to pierce her mind. Sniffling and rubbing her eyes, Tamara reached out a picked up the cup again,

"This is all I can do now. I know it's not the best, not what I want, but it'll have to do. There's still a lot I don't understand. Maybe I never will, but in any case, I need to try and move on. I'll always remember you, Papa. I'll always think of you, and of Mother. I'm safe now, probably safer than I've ever been. I hope you know that. Please be at peace and rest well. And tell Mother I love her."

Raising the cup into the air, Tamara touched her lips to the rim and drain it. The sake burned her throat as she swallowed, but the pain was welcomed. It soothed the itchy sensation her crying had caused.

As she set the cup down and refilled it, she spoke again. "For someone who claims to enjoy solitude, you don't seem to understand the concept of leaving someone the hell alone."

Drinking again, Tamara waited patiently, looking into the burning candle on the memorial alter she'd made. It took a long time, in fact, she had two more cups of sake before she heard him move behind her. Heels clicked against the ruins and a shadow crossed over the area in front of her.

"How did you even know I was here?" she didn't turn around at his low voice, eye focused forward.

Tamara stroked Virgil's head, who looked up at Mihawk and flicked his ear. He'd warned her about the trailing shadow back in the forest when she'd picked the flowers for the ceremony, bunting her cheek with his wet nose and mewing softly in her ear. Virgil always seemed to be able to sense Mihawk, long before Tamara could ever hope to. Until now, the Shichibukai had clearly been unaware of her pet's ability.

It should have greatly offended her that he'd ease-dropped on the funeral proceedings. In all honestly, she was too emotionally drained to care. The sake was probably helping that too.

Silence fell between them as she sipped the wine, feeling a bit lightheaded from the alcohol.

After a time, he spoke with a soft tone. "You shouldn't be out here alone, it's dangerous."

Tamara swallowed and replied with a slightly bitter voice, "I wasn't going to do this inside. Papa loved the outdoors, lived for it. He deserved to be laid to rest under the sky, not buried in some underground tomb."

Another round of stillness was made. She didn't care that she'd just snapped at someone that could kill her with one finger. It was his own damn fault for following her in the first place.

"May I sit?" his voice remained soft, the tone was meant to be comforting, she was sure. As empty as she felt, it didn't mean much.

"Go ahead. Not like I can stop you anyway."

She sensed him pause for a while before moving beside her. He lowered himself silently to the ground, keeping a respectable distance between them and rested one arm on a bent knee. Tamara was tempted to glance at him, to see what his expression was, but didn't. He was the one intruding, she was allowed to be annoyed.

The flask of sake was half gone. She debated having more, but still wanted enough to purify the site, so resisted the urge. Mihawk remained silent, both sitting in the dank atmosphere for a long time. It surprised her that he was the first to speak.

"I never knew my Mother. She died bringing me into this world. My Father never forgave me for that."

Now she did look at him, all feelings of irritation vanishing instantly. His expression was as it always was, blank and serious with no hints of emotion. But his voice held a tint of pain she'd never heard from him before. Tamara looked back to the altar before daring to say anything.

"I'm sorry. Your Father must have loved her very much," she said.

"He didn't."

She looked over in shock at the blunt statement.

"He was angry that my birth ended his ability to continue the bloodline. There were no other women with pure enough lineage to be considered worthy to be his wife. Adrian never held it against me."

Considering how little she knew about Mihawk, this conversation was really turning out differently than she'd imagined.

"Your brother?"

"Older brother, yes. I haven't spoken to him in a long time. Or my Father."

"Why not?" Realizing that she'd probably just crossed a line, she corrected quickly, "Wait, don't answer that."

"What have I told you about backpedaling?"

"Err, not too." He merely gave a sharp nod in response.

"They took something from me. Something beyond precious. I've never forgiven them for that. And never will. So, I severed ties and left them to their own fate," he said, quietly.

Well, that was something. Tamara didn't think she could ever be that cold. Then again, she didn't know the full story, maybe she could be. Her mind cast back to a familiar face that haunted her dreams. Shoving the image aside, she poured another cup of sake. Instead of drinking it herself, she offed the cup to Mihawk.

Golden eyes glanced at her hand before rising to her face. Tamara gave a slight nod and he reached out to take the cup of wine. His fingers brushed against hers, warm and gentle. She watched him tip the rim and swallow the contents without pause before setting the cup back onto the cloth.

Neither said anything else, resting side by side and watching the flicking candle burn. As the wax burned up and the flame started to die, Tamara finally moved. Her legs were cramped up from staying in the same place for so long, but she ignored the pain.

Picking up the bottle of sake, she leaned forward and upended the remaining liquor onto the middle of the altar. The sharp, acrid scent filled the air. After the flask was empty, she set it back down onto the makeshift table. And then sat still for another long while.

She felt lighter somehow. It was hard to say if that was because she'd finally said goodbye properly or because she felt closer to Mihawk. Tamara was still mildly annoyed that he'd stalked after her but seeing as he understood the purpose better than anyone, maybe it was okay. Reaching over, she grabbed the now empty backpack and started to climb to her feet.

Mihawk rose as she started to move, offering her a hand up. She didn't take it, choosing to stand on her own. This had been her choice, she would see it through without his help. Though his presence was comforting. On her feet again, Tamara looked up at the simple grave marker, massive as it was.

"Goodbye Papa," she whispered softly.

Virgil rubbed against her legs insistently. Managing a small smile, she scooped up her pet and let him walk over her shoulders. Turning from the memorial site, she started to walk back to the castle.

In an odd reversal of roles, Mihawk fell in a step behind her.

Behind the pair, the wind blew softly over the altar, rustling the lilac petals of the flowers like the gentle whispering of the fallen giving thanks to those that remembered.

* * *

The hot water pounded against his bare shoulders, a soothing rhythm that allowed his mind to wander. Even though he really didn't want it to. How long had it been since he'd thought of his bother? Of his father? Truly let the memories of his home country run rampant through his mind? Months? No, more likely years.

Running a hand through his wet hair, Mihawk pressed a palm flat on the slick granite tiles and lowered his head, letting the pouring water stream past his face and closing his eyes as he recalled the previous day's events.

He hadn't intended to intrude on Tamara's funeral ceremony. When he'd spotted her form walking away from an upstairs window, dressed in black with a packed bag and her pet on her shoulders, his first thought was that she'd finally decided to leave the island.

It had disturbed him greatly. Both that she wanted to leave and that she was doing so without even bidding him farewell. Then there was the fact that she was likely going to steal one of his boats in order to sail off the island and or get killed by the Humandrills before reaching the sea. All these reasons had led to him stalking after her, staying far enough away that she wouldn't notice his presence.

Mihawk was deeply regretting letting her keep the cat in his household now.

What troubled him more was his willingness to speak of his past to her. When he'd sat next to her at the altar, his intention had merely been to offer another presence of comfort. Like her loyal pet had done. Nothing more.

But she had been so sad. Her blue eyes that always shimmered like the ocean waves had been dark and distant, cheeks hollowed and red from tears. It was normal for what she was going through. Mihawk had seen more than his share of grief-stricken expressions, but to see it on Tamara's face.

He'd wanted wipe away all the sorrow flooding her soft features, wished nothing more than to see her pretty smile again.

That desire was what bothered him currently. Tamara was interesting, certainly. Entertaining and enjoyable company -not to mention an exceptional housekeeper. But he didn't know when she'd wriggled close enough to warrant his concern and protection. No one had ever received that from him, not since he'd left his birth island. Even Shanks had only ever gotten a temporary alliance when needed -more to keep the redhead alive long enough for Mihawk to defeat him than a desire to safeguard.

It should have bothered him, how easily the whispers of his nearly forgotten family slipped from his mouth. He'd never spoken of them to anyone outside Moldovien, even Shanks didn't know of Mihawk's past. There'd never been any reason or need to share such a thing. But it didn't bother him...in fact, if anything, he felt lighter, less burdened, even with as little as he had shared.

Needless to say, the rest of that day had passed by rather morbidly.

As he mused, it occurred to him that she knew more about him now than he did of her. Hell, he didn't even know the names of her parents, or that of the wicked uncle he'd only ever heard her tell of in panicked screams. He forced that thought far away, otherwise, he might be tempted to demand that information from her. Nothing would please him more than to slowly torture and torment the ghosts that shadowed his Little Thing.

Blinking rapidly, Mihawk shook his head. When had he started to think like that about her? This strange connection to her, what he was experiencing,

It was...

Mihawk blinked suddenly, feeling a chill hit his skin. The sound of running water ceased and his mind snapped back to the present. Looking up at the showerhead, a dark frown marred his features as a few stray drops fell from the silver attachment.

A snarl rumbled from his chest as he turned and stepped from the basin, rivets of liquid trailing down his skin. He grabbed a towel before storming from the bathroom. Clearly, the damn apes needed to be reminded who was the Alpha on this island.

* * *

With his hair still wet, Mihawk marched swiftly down the hallway. He hadn't bothered with a shirt in his irritated state, choosing to throw on his trademark open black coat. _Yoru_ hummed on his back, trying to comfort her master. As he descended the grand staircase, from a side door Tamara appeared, looking up to him, wearing a confused expression.

"Mihawk-san, the stove, and fridge stopped working. Is something wrong?" she asked.

His annoyance doubled, though he kept his expression carefully neutral. No need to startle her. For all her progress thus far, she could still be flighty as a wild deer if he was unintentionally too harsh. Coming to the bottom of the stairs, he saw Virgil pad out behind her. The feline mewed in greeting to him.

"You might say that. The Humandrills have likely damaged the generator. Every so often, they get uppity and need to be put back in place."

Tamara's eyes widened slightly before understanding crossed her face. "Oh. I see."

She frowned a bit, looking to the front entrance doors. "How long will it be down?"

"That depends on the damage. It could be a few hours or a few weeks, I won't know till I investigate." A lower lip was caught between white teeth and Mihawk couldn't stop his eyes from being drawn to the movement. She didn't notice, lost in planning as she glanced back over her shoulder.

"Alright then," she said. "I'll move the perishable foods down into the wine cellar for now. If the powers out for too long, at least the cold will keep it for a time."

He looked away as she turned back to him, moving towards the double doors and opening them. "That would be wise. I'll probably be gone for a few hours."

"If you need help, don't hesitate to come get me. Be safe."

Mihawk kept walking but raised a hand in a backward wave as he left. They both knew her offer was more to be polite than anything else. Tamara knew absolutely nothing about mechanics.

Walking around to the backside of the castle, he looked over the small lake. The natives of Kuraigana had built their monastery's home well. Perched at the highest point on the island and near one of the larger bodies of natural water. And the far side of the said pool was where he needed to go.

Originally, he'd wanted the power source closer to the castle, untill he'd heard the noise it made while running. To his sensitive ears, it was extremely loud, so moving it further away was needed. It had taken some time to train the Humandrills to avoid the new stone structure, but he'd managed it. Still, they seemed to forget from time to time.

Reaching the sturdy building, Mihawk frowned at the broken door hanging by a single hinge. It was still intact, which was unusual. Alarms started to rise in his mind as he stepped into the darkened doorway. The large generator sat peacefully in the center of the room. Whole and undamaged, but silent.

He stood there for a moment, confusing flooding him until _Yoru_ vibrated, warning him. Senses screaming to life, Mihawk spun in place just as a bullet whizzed past his cheek. The metal ball embedded itself into the thick wood as he watched its trail pass inches away from his face.

Bodies of thick, muscular men surrounded him as their twisted grins leered out as they stalked from the forest's shadowy edges. They'd been smart, staying silent and still to avoid his attention. Most of them were missing teeth, with bandana's tied around their heads. Mihawk's nose crinkled at their salt-scented clothing. Some wore a stitched-on Jolly Roger symbol. Jeers and laughs came from the group as they spread into a semi-circle around him.

The Shichibukai assessed his situation. He recognized this group as the kind of stereotypical pirates Tamara would have heard of from the World Government. He resisted arching an eyebrow in distaste. It would only goad them on. His golden eyes that gave him his name flitted around the group, counting the number of men.

There were two dozen, maybe a few more if some were still hiding. What troubled him most was how they'd managed to get so close to his home without drawing the Humandrills wrath.

His hand wrapped around _Yoru's_ hilt and he unsheathed the massive blade, saying nothing but immediately casting his senses to the estate. Haki flooded his vision and his heart rate increased when half a dozen unknown auras appeared within the walls.

A distraction. A well-planned one at that. He cursed himself for being so foolish. Mihawk tensed his muscles, prepared to finish off these intruders quickly. He needed to get back. Tamara was in danger.

The hair on the back of his neck stood on end and he leaped backward just as the ground exploded where he'd been standing. Massive waves of energy split the soil and dirt kicked up into the air. His sharp vision saw through the cloud as a new figure stood tall while he skidded to a halt.

" _Hawk Eyes_ Mihawk...one of the legendary Warlords of the Sea. It's a pleasure to meet you. Your reputation precedes you. Very few have ever dodged my **_Sky Slice Barrage_**."

The voice was male and spoke with haughty confidence. As the dust settled, Mihawk looked upon a golden-haired man with broad shoulders and sharp angled features sporting a cruel smile. And he radiated power despite having no weapons on his person. This was the Captain of the pirate crew, of that there could be no doubt.

Mihawk briefly wondered where the hell he'd come from. The attack had come from above and aside from the generator building, there were no other nearby high points. Pushing aside the thought, he spoke with a calm, steady voice.

"I will commend you for making it past the Humandrills, but that will not warrant any mercy, to your crew or to you."

A low chuckle came from the Captain. "I expect none."

He gave a brief bow, mockery ringing in every movement. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Ares, known to the Navy as _The Crimson Claw_. I intend to be the victor here today. Killing you will make me a hero among pirates; my name will ring through the clouds."

Mihawk forced himself not to look at the castle. Ares' eyes were studying his every move; any sign of concern or hesitation would have disastrous results. The crew of the _Crimson Claw_ fanned out, blocking exits and howling in support of their Captain. He needed to finish this quickly and return to the estate.

That might not be so easy.

"Your overconfidence will be your downfall." Shifting, Mihawk raised _Yoru_ towards his opponent in a challenge. She was screaming in rage, desperate to taste blood. "Come."

As Ares lunged forward, Mihawk swung his blade through the air. Tamara was going to have to fend for herself for now. He only hoped she could handle whatever was coming her way.

* * *

 **I'm horrible, I know. Lay it on me. XD**


	11. Under Siege

**Well now, we are back again.**

 **So as you might have guessed, this chapter will be mostly action based. I apologise for the length it took to update. Action writing in any sense is always tricky, so I like to make sure it looks good.**

 **With that in mind, C.S. Skywalker is my main man and helped so much with this chapter.**

 **And if anyone cares to check it out, this is the picture that inspired a good chunk of Mihawk's fight. No idea who drew it, but whoever did, you have all my thanks and credit to you. Make sure to remove the spaces and add a . after the com. Fanfiction doesn't like website addresses being put up apparently.**

 **i. pinimg com / 736x/45 / be / f3 / 45bef302f724ba85654876ff8df08af7 . jpg**

 **As always, please feel free to like, follow and review. Your support is beyond awesome and I love every last one.**

* * *

Tamara set down a wooden crate with a loud thud and sighed with relief. Pausing to swipe her forearm across her forehead, she took a moment before starting to unpack the container, grateful she'd decided to wear shoes. The cellar was colder than she remembered. Dim light cut the gloomy room. The crate was mostly fruits and vegetables, hence the weight.

The wine cellar was dark, so she lit several candles and lanterns to be able to see properly. It was difficult to find areas to put everything. She then proceeded to lay down several tablecloths on the stone floor to protect the food, but with the numerous wooden bottle racks, space was an issue. To keep things simple, Tamara tried to keep as much as possible close to the underground hatch.

Taking out the last bundle of carrots, she picked up the crate and stood. As she started to walk towards the ladder-like staircase, Tamara heard a spitting hiss. Glancing up, she furrowed her brow as she watched his hackles raise, signaling danger.

"Virgil? What's wrong?"

At the edge of the square floor entrance, her little black cat stood with an arched back, puffed up tail and flattened ears. He was staring down the hallway and growling low in his throat. Climbing the stairs, Tamara squinted in the direction her pet was glaring.

There was laughter down the corridor and the sound of footsteps. From out of the shadows, two figures walked towards her. She heard them chortling to each other.

"How long do yah think it'll take the Captain to kill him?" the first laughed.

A barking laugh came from the other man, "You kidding me? The bastard's probably already dead."

Tamara sucked in a breath unintentionally and the sound made both men look up, spotting her. She froze as their beady eyes locked onto her. At her feet, Virgil jerked forward, hissing in aggression and swatting the air with one clawed foot. Her grip on the empty crate on her hip tightened when they paused and grinned in sick delight,

"Well, well, well. What've here? A little morsel wandering all alone," one said, a big bear of a man.

"Who're you girl? What're you doing here?"

Shifting a bit, she glared at the pair. "Who am I? Who the hell are you to dare enter my home? Leave now, before you get hurt."

Both men looked to each other and then laughed out loud.

" _Hahahaha_ , right, like a scrawny thing like you is going do much."

" _Gahahaha_ , oh that's rich."

The intruders looked towards her and Tamara had to force herself not to take a step back. One of them had a sabre at his waist that he placed his hand on menacingly. She moved again, shifting to a sideways stance, mind reeling. Mihawk was away, and from the sounds of these men's conversation, dealing with something else.

"What'da think? Should we keep her alive?"

"Might be fun."

Tamara felt fear and anger power though her. It sharpened her mind and tensed her muscles. With the adrenaline rush came heightened senses, filling her veins with hot ice and making her tremble. If it weren't for that, she wouldn't have caught the tautness in the first man's legs as he prepared to lung at her.

A squeal exited her lips as she leapt sideways. As the clumsy oaf flew past her, clear shock reflected in his face, Tamara swung the crate with both hands. The wooden container shattered over her attacker's head, a painful howl lighting the air. She was left holding a single plank, but the man was on the ground, groaning. There was little time to celebrate as his partner swore and drew his blade.

Tamara jerked backwards as the razor edge of the sword missed her nose by inches. He stabbed forward, and she knocked the weapon aside with the length of wood she held. It wasn't enough to completely deflect the attack as a stinging pain came from her upper arm -the sharp tip had pierced through the plank and glanced her bicep. At the same time, Virgil leapt forward with an animal's howl, locking claws and teeth around the swordsman's leg. Tamara staggered back as she watched her brave pet attack. Blood poured from the wound, and it stung, but Tamara didn't allow herself to feel the pain. That would mean her end.

The man screamed and started flailing the appendage her cat was latched onto. Virgil let go, flying through the air and twisting, landing on his feet as only a cat could do. Whispering a small thank you to the cat and making a mental note to reward him later, Tamara didn't waste the distraction. She swung the plank upward with enough force to break it, and the man dropped to the floor, bleeding and unconscious.

A pained moan and shifting of cloth made her remember the other male. He was rubbing his head and starting to climb to his feet. Dropping the scrap of wood, Tamara snatched up the discarded saber and darted forward. Without hesitation, she drove the sharp blade through his back, wincing at the death cry he let out as the weapon pierced through his front.

Silence filled the hallway as she let go of the sabre's hilt. Panting slightly, she looked down the darkened hallway. No other sounds came. Unsheathing her dagger from her back, Tamara took the moment of reprieve to slice two long slits in her skirt, turning the dress into more of a tunic and sliced a strip off to bind her arm with. She had a very strong feeling she was going to need to be able to use her legs.

Tightening the makeshift bandage with her teeth, Virgil padded over, still looking down the hall. She glanced down at her pet. He was uninjured thankfully, but still very much on guard.

"There's more, right?" She questioned the feline.

He hissed in response, growling and crouching low. Well, that answered that. Biting her lip, Tamara thought carefully. She could hide away and wait for the intruders to leave. Despite what the two men had said, she had no doubt Mihawk would be along soon. And he would not be happy. She pitied her attackers for a moment -being around him in that state was not smart.

However, this castle was her home too. These pirates, or she assumed they were pirates, didn't belong. She suddenly felt the hollowing sensation of déjà vu. She'd been unable to defend her home on Saguine -was she really going to do the same thing here? Glancing down at the two downed men, she tightened her hold on her dagger and started to move down the hall. If nothing else, surveying the situation couldn't hurt.

Virgil loyally followed closely. Tamara choose to take a set of stairs upward that led to the third level, making her way towards the front doors. At least this way, she might have the high ground for a possible fight, though she'd really rather avoid that if she could.

As she got closer to the entryway, Virgil's growling got lower and he hissed in warning. She heard voices speaking, one in particular was louder than the rest. And it was female.

"Hurry the hell up! We don't have a lot of time, find the Shichibukai's treasure stash and bag it!"

"Yes, Vice-Captain."

"Right away, Sir."

Carefully peering around the corner while pressed to the wall, Tamara saw a white-haired woman brutally commanding a few other men. She counted six peons, all whom scattered from the entrance, running through doors and up the stairs. Unfortunately, one was barreling right for her location.

She briefly saw shock cross the man's face when he swung around the bend and spotted her. She didn't give him any time to recover, leaping forward.

Tamara thrust her closed fist up, slamming it into her opponent's throat. A pained gargle was heard as he stumbled back, clutching his neck. Tamara spun on the ball of her foot and placed a strong roundhouse kick to his temple, feeling a slight pain over her heel.

Virgil joined in the fight, leaping onto the railing and launching himself at the man's face, biting and clawing, making him flail comically. The man stumbled and collided with the bannister, giving a panicked cry as he toppled over it and fell to the hard floor below.

Her talented pet nimbly leapt off and posed gracefully on the wide railing.

Naturally, the commotion had caught the attention of the intruder. The woman looked up at her with harsh eyes. Tamara saw that she was actually rather ugly in appearance, with a long-hooked witch-like nose, small eyes too close together and an overly large mouth. She didn't carry any weapons, unlike her men. Her heart sunk as she watched the woman's beady eyes flit over her face. The element of surprise was gone.

"Who the hell are you?" the woman asked harshly.

Tamara glared down at the Vice-Captain from behind the railing, faking as much bravado as she could, "Considering that you're the one trespassing, I think that question is something I should be asking."

A nasty smirk crawled across the women's face, making her look even more hideous. "You're a mouthy one. Brave too, not that it'll do you much good. I am Lucinda _the Banshee_ , Vice-Captain of the _Crimson Pirates_. You must be _Hawk-Eyes_ ' little whore. Didn't think the man had that kind of appetite, rather sickening to be dragging children off to the bedroom."

Tamara felt her cheeks flare in anger. No one insulted Mihawk if front of her unscathed! Plus she didn't like the fact that she still looked like an 18 year old girl. Rising to her full 5'5'' height, she snarled darkly,

"Fuck you, hag! At least I don't look like someone hit me in the face with a shovel!"

Two of the men that had run off came back at the sound of the two females arguing.

"Vice-Captain, what's wrong?" one asked.

"Who is that?"

Lucinda ignored her men's questions and concerns, keeping her face on Tamara as it twisted into a demented look. "You wench! I was going to spare you, but now I think I'll paint these walls a lovely red!"

And with those words, the white-haired women sucked in a deep breath through her mouth. Alarms went off in Tamara's mind, both at the unusual move and the fact that the men around her suddenly cried out in fear, flinching down and covering their ears.

Without thinking, Tamara dove forwards, rolling over the floor just as Lucinda let loose a scream.

The air rippled from the sound. She heard stone splinter behind her and her ears were fiercely ringing, like she'd just stood next to a giant gong being rung. Springing back to her feet, Tamara looked to where she'd been previously standing.

A semicircular trench was dug through the stone floor, part of the railing was missing and there was a large chunk gouged out of the wall. Turning back to Lucinda, she swallowed hard.

"I see we've eaten a Devil Fruit," Tamara said.

Lucinda laughed in response. "Aren't you cute. That's right, I ate the _Hemei Hemei no Mi._ Now my voice is a literal weapon, able to pulverize anything. You're going to die a horrible death, little whore."

"The _Scream-Scream_ Fruit, really? Am I supposed to be impressed by that?"

Secretly, she was. This was the first Devil Fruit user she'd ever seen in person. Yes, Mihawk talked about a number of opponents with said powers, but it was very different to see it first-hand. And a whole lot scarier. Tamara really didn't want to see what those sonic attacks would do on the human body.

Lucinda smirked wickedly, tossing her scraggly hair back and taking in another deep breath.

Tamara took off down the hallway as the scream exited her mouth, shooting circles of sonic energy towards her. Her ears felt like they were about to break, it took everything she had to keep the blurred double vision. Tamara saw that none of the house's structure had been damaged like the first attack, which was a little puzzling.

As she sprinted out of sight, Lucinda's voice howled behind her. "After her! I want her head on a spike!"

"Yes, Vice-Captain!"

"You heard _Banshee_! Let's go!"

Footsteps thundered up the stairs as she ran and her thoughts streamed at hyper speeds through her head. She was sure could handle the subordinates, but Lucinda was a whole other problem. Tamara skidded around the next corner just as a loud howl punched a hole in the wall where her head had been a moment ago.

Her only advantage over these people was her knowledge of the castle's structure. Tamara knew most of the layout -they didn't. A set of stairs appeared before her and she started to dash up them. There was a sharp tug on her ankle and she yelped as she was suddenly yanked off her feet, crashing to the floor.

Whipping her head around, Tamara saw one of the men behind her. He'd snagged her ankle with a long chain-like weapon. Cackling, he yanked on it, pulling her across the floor. Without thinking, she twisted and flung her dagger at the pirate.

It didn't hit exactly where she wanted, but the blade sank into the man's thigh, making him howl and drop the taut chain. Leaping back to her feet, Tamara grabbed the chain and charged the man. He wasn't expecting such an aggressive move and stumbled, giving her the chance to wind the chain around his neck. Tamara tried desperately to cut off the pirate's air supply, his thick neck bulging and turning redder and redder as she did so. She grunted heavily as he flailed -the man was bigger than she thought and grew panicked as Lucinda and her other cronies caught up.

Tamara instantly let go of her victim, remembering to snatch up her dagger at the last moment, and dove to the side as the older woman loosened a sonic scream. The man she'd been strangling received the full force of the attack, immediately passing out as blood streamed from his ears.

She didn't see this as she was already flying up the staircase. The enraged Vice-Captain yelled behind her as she climbed higher in the castle, the last echoes barely reaching her hearing. Tamara winced as her ears fiercely rung from _Banshee's_ last yell. Touching the side of her head, her fingertips came back slightly red.

Ducking through a door, Tamara closed herself in and held her breath as feet thundered past. She'd bought herself a few minutes, perhaps long enough to pick off the other subordinate. Glancing around, she spotted an item in the room that made her grin in delight.

That was just what she needed. **  
**

* * *

Mihawk grunted softly as the vibration from the strike shook down _Yoru's_ blade, causing him to tighten his grip on the hilt. The force of the blow had him skidding back and he had to twist his sword suddenly to block the follow up hit. Ares seemed to have no limits to his strength as Mihawk was forced to jump aside again, the opposite man slamming an enlarged, yellow, scaled arm into the ground.

Landing with bent knees, Mihawk narrowed his eyes, calculating the man's every move. Ares was a Devil Fruit user, some kind of Zoan Type. Both his arms were transformed into massive bird-like appendages which ended in long, razor claws. His attacks were powerful, and he was fast. Thus far, Ares and himself were tied for hits, neither landing a solid blow, which Mihawk commended the man for.

Tensing his muscles, he let Haki rise in his blood and dashed forward. The side slice missed as Ares leapt high into the air. Gold eyes traced the movement and Mihawk launched up in pursuit with _Yoru's_ deadly tip aimed for his heart.

His eyes widened when large eagle wings suddenly sprouted from Ares' back.

Mid-air maneuvers were always tricky. Learning to shift one's weight and twist to gain an advantage was a skill few could achieve. Mihawk was at an obvious disadvantage -Ares had wings and he did not. As his black blade neared the captain, Ares gave a mighty beat of his wings, easily dodging the attack, leaving him vulnerable.

A victorious battle cry left the Devil Fruit user's mouth as a deadly three fingered claw slashed towards Mihawk's face. The Shichibukai gritted his teeth and threw his weight back, arching his spine awkwardly. Almost as if it were slow motion, he saw the sharp claws narrowly avoid his face and felt the wind from the strike skim by his cheek. There was a moment of suspended action, where both combatants hung in the air.

Then, Ares rolled forward, using his flight capability to increase his power and drove his foot downward as he coated his appendage in an all-black substance. Mihawk's breath whooshed from his lungs at the Haki infused kick collided with his side. Gravity yanked Mihawk towards the earth as he fell at an alarmingly fast rate. He grit his teeth together and flipped over, landing hard on his feet. The ground around him caved in and dust flew into the air.

He had little time to recover from the attack as Ares voice howled, " ** _SKY SLICE BARRAGE!_** "

Mihawk was forced to run, dodging the long-range energy attack that tore great trenches into the soil.

 _"He's stronger than he looks,"_ Mihawk thought. _"I jumped to conclusions too fast."_

Jumping forward, he twisted around and let loose a slash from _Yoru_. The white-green streak sailed towards Ares.

He felt a twinge of annoyance and admiration as the airborne Zoan zipped around the attack. Ares cackled as his remained above Mihawk.

"You have no chance, Shichibukai!" Ares crowed. "I'm younger, faster, and stronger! And with my Devil Fruit power, you are nothing!"

Before he could respond, battle cries from Ares's crew hit his ears. Mihawk was forced to momentarily take his eyes of the flying male to cut through one man that charged and duck under another, easily blocking the return strike before slicing through flesh.

The men, bold as they were, fell almost instantly, but their interference was enough to give Ares an edge. Mihawk grit his teeth as a pair of clawed fingers closed over his blade, temporarily immobilizing it. The _Crimson Claw_ smirked in victory as the two braced in a fight of strength.

"You're even better than I hoped for, _Hawk-Eyes_ ," he grinned. "I haven't had a fight this good in a while."

Mihawk's remained expressionless. "You are also quite impressive, yet you will still die."

His opponent's skin shifted grotesquely. Mihawk recognized this as a Zoan transformation and he forced his body to the side minutes before Ares' head -now a feathered eagle's- snapped closed where his neck had just been. A clawed leg swung and before he could move, the flesh on his chest was sliced open. The Shichibukai swallowed a yell of pain, not allowing the younger man to know he was hurting.

Ripping _Yoru_ out of Ares's grip and leaping backwards, Mihawk observed the monstrous sight before his eyes. Ares now had the wings and upper body of a bird with his lower body transformed into backwards bend feline legs with a twitching tufted tail.

He took a moment to assess his wound. Three scratches across the chest, shallow and only bleeding slightly, thanks to the constant flow of Armament Haki he kept under the surface of his skin. Still, it was the first injury he gotten in battle in some time.

"First blood is mine, _Hawk-Eyes_. Are you ready to surrender yet?"

Shifting a bit, Mihawk smirked under his goatee, "Are you attempting to amuse me, young man? If so, you're certainly succeeding."

Rage filled the bird eyes of Ares and Mihawk saw popping veins appear on his forehead before wings lifted Ares into the sky once more.

"You bastard! You still don't get it!" he yelled, starting to sound like a raging toddler. "I'm better than you! The sky is my kingdom and you are just a lowly bug waiting to be crushed!"

Ares loosened a scream that sounded little a cross between an eagle cry and a lions roar as his body shifted. Mihawk was left looking at a creature from legend. A massive beast with the head, wings and claws of a bird of prey, and the hindquarters of a carnivorous cat. His educated mind gave a name to the creature even as he fought down a wave of awe.

 _"Gryphon"_

Ares was a man who'd eaten a Legendary Zoan Devil Fruit. It was easy to see where his confidence came from now. Mihawk dodged around the numerous aerial attacks unleashed, his regard for the man growing slightly. Ares was certainly worthy of being a pirate on the Grand Line.

The slashes from the sky forced Mihawk closer to the castle. Not what he wanted; the battle could easily level the house. And Tamara was still inside. Or at least he though she was.

Ares had an advantage. His ability to fly and swiftly maneuver through the air gave him a leg up. The man had shifted back into his Hybrid form, with a more human looking head than before, and was hovering near the estate. Loosing an attack now risked damaging his home. The Zoan user seemed to know, this as well.

"What's wrong, _Hawk-Eyes_?" he taunted. "if I didn't know better, I'd say you're losing your touch. Has my magnificence left you in shock?"

"Bold words for a man too cowardly to fight on the ground," Mihawk said, trying his hand at belittlement. "I can see now how you got so close to my estate with your crew. You carried them here, didn't you? Not surprising that your only truly useful as a pack mule."

It was the only logical explanation as to how Ares and his crew got so close to his home. Intelligent as the Humadrills were, they were still animals. A flying Zoan type like Ares wouldn't have drawn their attention and they were far to scared of him to dare tread close to the castle.

He braced for the counterattack. Ares was too prideful a man to allow such an insult, and his anger would be his downfall. Mihawk avoided a smile as he saw black rage filling the man's face. His clawed arms raised, and _Yoru_ was lifted into the air by the Shichibukai. He was ready, he knew he'd win-

The sound of shattering glass made both men look up. Mihawk and Ares both watched, puzzled looks on their faces as two bodies -one of them an older woman with long white hair, and the other, very much resembling a troublesome young woman he knew- flew out of the uppermost window

" _Banshee_!?" Ares exclaimed and then screamed as he was suddenly dogpiled by weight he hadn't been prepared to accept. **"GAAAHHH!"**

A startled trio of screams mingled in the air and a flailing pile of limbs slammed into the ground.

Mihawk stared in shock as a familiar blond rolled across the ground, cursing and wrestling with the white-haired woman. Tamara was pinned under her opponent temporarily before she shoved her feet into the female's stomach and kicked off, sending her flying backwards.

Flipping up to her feet, there was a moment of pause as Tamara glared at the woman whom she had flung across the battlefield. The other female looked beyond her and he recognized fear in her eyes as she caught sight of him. She opened her mouth as if to scream.

 _"Am I all that frightening?"_ Mihawk thought to himself and then heard the woman's piercing screech. That was no normal scream.

The sonic pulses hit Mihawk and he cried out involuntarily. His eyes narrowed in pain while he fought down the urge to drop _Yoru_ and cover his ears. He glanced at Tamara, concerned for her safety, concerned to see if she was in as much pain as himself. But his concern quickly turned to shock as he watched Tamara launch herself towards the howling woman, looking completely unaffected by the horrid sound.

She dropped a shoulder into the screamer's gut and bowled her over. The two women were once more engaged in battle, but more importantly, the ear shattering noise was now silenced.

Mihawk's mind flashed with a premonition of a giant claw cleaving his head off and had little time to consider the conundrum of Tamara's supposed immunity to the women he'd heard called _Banshee_.

He ducked and felt a rush of wind ruffled his hair.

Without looking up, he slashed his blade skyward. _Yoru's_ razor edge cut through flesh. The howl of agony was sweeter than any wine he'd tasted, and battle lust rose in his blood. He inhaled deeply, scenting the metallic tang, before twisting and lashing out with one long leg. His heel collided with Ares' side, sending the younger man crashing into the ground. That was payback for earlier, vengeance was always best served cold. Before a recovery could begin, Mihawk fired the muscles in his legs, leaping high in the air.

Laser eyes locked onto his target and he let gravity drag him down, _Yoru_ roaring in delight.

Ares rolled over and looked up with wide eyes as Mihawk shot towards him. Despite the viscous, bleeding wound across his chest, the man still managed to shove himself out of the way. As _Yoru_ slammed into the ground, a powerful tremor shook the earth. Mihawk briefly heard twin female cries of surprise in the distance and the sound of bodies hitting the dirt.

Poised with his blade dug into the ground, his body upside down, and crackles of sword Haki energy licking the air, he looked to the gryphon man. Ares no longer looked cocky and confident. His eyes stared at Mihawk, seeming to age and wizen in an instant. He knew. The _Crimson Claw_ knew now what power truly was.

Swinging down from his perch, his booted foot shattered the ground where Ares had been a moment ago. Twisting and yanking up his sword, Mihawk unleashed a flurry of slashes that were barely blocked and opened several small cuts over his scaled arms. A pair of clawed bird talons suddenly locked over his blade again halting the assault, leaving the two straining against each other.

Their fight was interrupted again by the women. Or more specifically, by the shrieking of _Banshee_. Mihawk couldn't stop the wince that crossed his face, but Ares almost doubled over in pain. Both men leapt backwards to get out of the affected area. Then, the sonic scream was cut off as suddenly as it started, and he glanced over to look at the other fight.

Pride filled his chest at the sight. Tamara was behind the older women and had her in a double locked choke hold, slowly causing the Devil Fruit user to lose consciousness even as she fought to break away. The scream had been an act of desperation, she hadn't had any control over it. It had just been sheer dumb luck that it was aimed where they'd been standing, as neither girl was paying attention to them.

The white-haired woman finally gave in and went limp against Tamara. She shoved the body off her and scrambled to her feet, bolting for the castle. Mihawk jerked his gaze back to Ares as he felt a rush of wind. The man was airborne again and fully transformed.

The gryphon's claws glowed with white energy and Mihawk was moving before the syllables from his signature attack were uttered.

Great slices of Haki ripped through the island, destroying trees, hills, rocks and anything else that was nearby. Tamara screamed as one attack flew towards her, ducking down and covering her head. Mihawk grunted as he skidded to a halt in front of her and blocked the deadly projectile, straining against it before redirecting it into the sky.

Dust and dirt surrounded the battlefield. Through the cloud, Mihawk saw the shadow of the legendary beast swoop low to the ground before sailing upwards again. Clenched in his talons was the defeated women Tamara had left behind.

As the debris settled, he sensed his charge moved behind him, watching as the fusion monster fled over the trees towards the ocean.

 _Yoru_ screamed in victory as Mihawk swung her towards the retreating warrior. A massive wave of Haki flew after Ares and hit true, slicing down his side. Even with the huge distance between them, he heard the scream of pain and watched wings crumple.

The gryphon fell through the air, crashed into the treetop and dropped out of sight, no longer king over the skies.

Behind him, Tamara gasped in shock and the terrified cries of the living men still lingering about filled the air.

"Captain!"

"Holy crap! He...he fell!"

"Oh man! Run for it! Run!"

The crewmates who were still alive, which was very few, turned and ran wildly away from him. Shifting focus, Mihawk sent a few lazy slashes towards a couple but mostly watched as they fled into the darkened forest. Soon, the only sounds heard was his own heartbeat and the slightly breathless pants of Tamara.

Finally assured that it was safe, Mihawk turned to look at the blonde behind him. She was staring off into the trees where the pirates had fled. As he looked her over, he noted numerous bruises and scrapes. There were several bleeding cuts over her limbs, and one particularly deep one over her right elbow, as well as a makeshift bandage stained red. Overall, she seemed mostly fine. Battle worn, and in need of medical attention, but still healthy.

As he assessed her, his mind recalled the auras he'd seen in the house. She'd defended the castle. Alone, against sea hardened pirates and a Devil Fruit user and survived. Not only did she survive but emerged victorious. He felt his chest clench hard and spoke without thinking,

"You never cease to amaze me, _Mi_ _Pequeña_."

The endearment slipped from his mouth against his will. Mihawk sucked in a breath, eyes widening a fraction as he realized he'd just spoken his chosen name for her in his mother tongue.

He waited with a pounding heart for her reaction. A furrow creased his brow when she kept looking into the forest. Finally, she sensed his stare and looked over at him. Tamara reached up and dug at her ear for a moment. From beneath her hair, fingers came out holding a small white ball and she looked up with clear blue eyes,

"Did you say something, Mihawk-san?"

Understanding hit him suddenly as he looked at the item in her fingers. "You used candle wax to block your hearing. That's why the woman's scream didn't affect you. Clever girl."

That also meant she hadn't heard his stumbling comment. He was relived about that. It was concerning, his lapse of control. For the life of him, Mihawk couldn't fathom why he'd faltered.

Tamara flushed a bit at the compliment but recovered quickly. "I've been known to use my head from time to time. Are you going to go after them?"

Mihawk glanced were she looked, seeing the glow of Ares in the far distance. His aura was severely weakened but still clinging to life. However, the Humandrills were aware of the intruders now that they'd landed dead center in their territory. Already the apes were moving in, anger radiating from them, hungry for a fight. It was unlikly that the gryphon would survive.

"There's no need to now," Mihawk sighed. "If Ares manages to make it off the island at this point, he'll have earn his life. The same goes for his crewmates."

Tamara nodded as she pulled out the other ball of wax from her ear. Her eyes looked over him and suddenly widened, concern racing across her face. "You're hurt!"

She stepped forwards, hand reaching out to his chest. Mihawk looked down as her fingers brushed over the scratches he'd forgotten about. The heat from her skin nearly made him shiver and he gently grasped her hand in response, feeling something akin to desire rise in his blood at the innocent gesture.

He passed off the strange happening as post battle madness. It had been a while since he'd had such a good fight, he just needed to rebalance himself.

Mihawk smirked at her smugly, "This coming from a woman who fell out of a window?"

A scowl crossed her face, but her eyes danced in amusement as she took her hand back. "Technically, I was pulled out a window. I wasn't intending to be part of the ride. But I did have a soft landing."

He laughed out loud in response and sheathed _Yoru_ on his back. She managed to grin back, nodding towards the castle as they started walking together.

"You might not be laughing once you see the inside of the house," Tamara gulped. "The Scream-Queen did a number on it."

* * *

Behind the oak carved desk, Hisao studied the man sitting across from him. He looked oddly familiar, though the elder mayor couldn't place why. In any case, the long white Navy coat and sharp blue pinstripe suit was enough to command his attention and respect.

"I really don't see how I can be of assistance to you," he said, genuinely confused. "Surely the Marines have the same information I do."

The male shifted and Hisao felt the air darken. His throat suddenly felt dry and fear ran down his back. Redemption island was an ally of the Navy, there was no danger here, he was sure of that.

"Naturally, but hearing it from a creditable source, rather than a written rumor is always preferred. You understand, I'm sure. Now," the marine paused. "When did the Shichibukai last visit?"

The voice was smooth, but had a hardened edge that left Hisao very nervous. Still, he answered truthfully. "About 2 months ago. Shichibuikai _Hawk-Eyes_ Mihawk comes to our island infrequently, but we always make sure he is treated with the greatest of respect, as any ally is."

Hisao saw the man nod in response. "And it is appreciated, I assure you, Mayor Hisao. Tell me about the woman that accompanied him."

Confusion furrowed over the older man's face, "The girl? What interest does she have to the Navy?"

"That is not your concern, Mayor, and you would do well to answer my inquiries quickly." The sensation of danger grew and Hisao felt sweat start to build on his forehead.

"O-of course...I meant no offence. Umm, the girl...yes. She arrived with the Warlord in his ship. I believe she was meant to remain on the island, but _Hawk-Eyes_ left with her three days later."

A pause followed this information before the man reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a photo, holding it up to Hisao. "This is the woman?"

Looking over the photo, Hisao felt his face go white. The image was of the young lady he'd seen on the docks, though it only showed her shoulders and head. Yet in this picture, her face was dirty, bruises lined her cheeks with a split lip and her blue eyes were dull, holding no life. His voice failed, but the man , replaced the picture with a satisfied look.

"I will take your response as a yes." The man stood.

As Hisao looked up at the tall Marine, the blond male smiled in a way that chilled the elder man's blood and he saw a hand reach for the coiled whip at his hip.

"Thank you, Mayor Hisao. Your services are no longer needed."

From outside the house, a strangled scream was heard, as well as a snapping _CRACK_ and guttural hissing noise. The window pane was suddenly colored with red liquid that ran down the glass in rivulets.

The front door opened and closed, only the sound the flapping of the white Navy coat was heard. Standing vigil in the shadows, three men waited, eyes watching for witnesses. Finally, the tallest one spoke to the blond man.

"Well? Is it true?"

He gave a single nod. "Yes...she lives. And she's with the Shichibukai."

Silence followed that statement before one of the men spoke to the larger male that had addressed the Marine."Captain Winters...orders?"

Winters looked to the two others and smirked wickedly. "Wait one hour. Then burn this city to the ground."

Cruel, sadistic smiles crawled over the subordinates faces before they left. The remaining men started to walk towards the docks.

After a few moments, Winters spoke with a snide, smug undertone, "She'd out of reach now, Vice-Admiral . You can't get to her."

A dark snarl left the lips of the blond Navy officer, eyes cutting through the dark to pin a glare harsh enough to split stone at his partner.

"Don't ever presume to know what I can and cannot do, Winters!" he growled. "I have not come this far to be defeated by a minor obstacle now. This is my destiny, I will not be denied! Not when I am so close."

"A Shichibukai is not a minor obstacle, especially _Hawk-Eyes_ Mihawk. How do you propose to get past him? She's under his care, you can't reach her without compromising your position. I didn't mind unleashing my crew on Saguine, and once you leave port, they'll run wild here too. This partnership has been highly profitable...for both of us. But if you think I'm going up against a damn Warlord, you're dead wrong."

The Vice-Admiral scowled darkly, hand ghosting over the whip on his hip. Beside him, Winters shifted, eyes hardening but fear evident in his gaze. But the Marine didn't do anything more, continuing to walk. Once the pair reached the edge of the dock, he turned to the pirate Captain,

"I don't expect you to cross blades with _Hawk-Eyes_. You too useful to me at this time. And we do have a deal, one that I intent to keep. We will both have what's coming to us."

He paused at that and looked out to sea, "Contact _Zodiac_. Tell _Libra_ I'm calling in my favor."

Winters sucked in a sharp breath, eyes opening wide as he stared. The blue-eyed Marine didn't blink, and he shook his head before loudly muttering,

"You're playing a very dangerous game, Yorinaga. I hope you know what you're doing."

* * *

 **And there we have it. I hope this makes up for the cliffy in the last chapter and everyone is happy with the read.**

 **It was asked by someone what Tamara looks like. I tried to add a little more detail into this chapter, but in case it was missed.**

 **Tamara appears to be about 17-18 years old, quite young given that she's over 25. She gets mistakes as a near minor all the time. She also stands about 5'4''-5'5'', which is average in our world, but in Oda's verse where there are 7 foot monsters running around, I figure she's on the littler side.**

 **Now, onto shout outs.**

 **C.S Skywalker: I couldn't do this without you, you are just the best.**

 **Desirae668: You make me smile so much, thank you for your wonderful words.**

 **AllyCatt12: I hearby give you permission to throw numurouis sharp objects in my direction for every time I leave you with a cliffhanger.**

 **Coolfire30: Always a pleasure to see your reviews, you have me giggling in delight every time.**

 **Kmbrun: The drama is proably going to get worst. Please don't have a heart attack.**


	12. Walking in a Winter Wonderland

**Hello again, my lovelies.**

 **So huge apologises for the delay. You know what happens around the holidays, things slow down. But here is another chapter for your viewing pleasure.**

 **Hope everyone is having a wicked Christmas. Might be a while for another update, but this will hopefully sustain my loyal viewers. Thanks again for everyone's support.**

 **Once again, a huge thanks to my Beta C.S Skywalker, who is making this story come together. Everyone enjoy and leave a review if you wish. They make my day and keep me going.**

 **Also I just realized that this chapter is co-existing with the Christmas holiday, so hears a major shout out**

 **MERRY CHIRSTMAS TO ALL AND TO ALL A GOOD YEAR!**

* * *

Her stomach didn't immediately protest when she woke up. Tamara counted that as a good sign. Laying on the cot for a few more minutes just to fully assess her gastrointestinal system, she became more confident about moving. Carefully sitting up, the rocking of her room making a slight twinge run through her gut. Yet it was almost heavenly compared to the wrenching she had gone through.

After the assault on the castle, Mihawk and she had spent a day compiling the damage. By the time they'd gotten back to the estate, the pirates that had been left behind during her fight with _Banshee_ had raided the pantry. It wasn't as bad as she'd first thought, but it was still pretty messed up.

Tamara had expressed confusion over that action. Mihawk had explained that when at sea, food was the most valuable asset to have and often the first thing taken. It was likely that what had been stolen was scattered about the island, as the Humandrills had probably slaughtered the men after they left. Regardless, the attack meant another supply run was needed.

She would have been perfectly content to remain behind and man the house, but Mihawk had strongly insisted she accompany him. Seeing as Tamara was still living off his good graces and tolerance, arguing probably wasn't a good idea. Her only bit of tiny defiance was to bring Virgil along for the trip.

So, she was once more on the small cargo ship and sailing out to sea. Unfortunately, their time of arrival to their intended destination had been delayed by one hell of a storm. Two days after leaving Kuraigana, the sky had grown dark and the waves pitched the boat violently. Mihawk had glared at the bad weather like it had personally offended him and he could dissipate it by sheer force of will.

At this point, it really wouldn't have really surprised her if he could do that

 _"If looks could kill,"_ Tamara thought hopelessly and spent the whole time inside the storage space. The heaving and rocking of the ship also made her incredibly seasick. Virgil had loyally stayed beside her while she heaved what little was in her stomach and miserably moaned in the small cot.

Climbing to her feet after what felt like hours, Tamara's brow crinkled a bit when she exhaled, and her breath fogged out in a white cloud. The air in the cabin was also frigid, making her shiver. Pulling out her clothes, she dressed in a knee-length dark blue dress with long sleeves and a high neck. Still uncomfortably cold, Tamara pulled on some skin-tight leggings under the skirt. Not wanting to hear Mihawk scold her, she also slipped on a pair of leather boots.

Outside on the deck, Tamara took a few steps before freezing in place. Her eyes went wide as she looked around, tilting her head back to fully confirm what she was seeing.

It was _snowing_.

The deck and railings were covered in a light layer of white fluff and large flakes fell from the sky. She stood in place, her eyes glittering, mesmerized by the sight and unable to move.

"You've never seen snow before, Little Thing?" Mihawk said, with a slight air of a taunt.

The Warlord's deep voice jolted her slightly, but didn't lessen her awe as she moved forward and scooped up a handful of the cold white stuff from the railing.

"Never," she replied breathlessly. "It's beautiful. You didn't say we were going to a winter Island."

From the front of the ship Mihawk sat on a crate with long legs crossed and hands folded on his lap. He cracked open one eye to look at her.

"We weren't. The storm threw the ship off course. I'm not sure where we ended up, but since the weather has settled, I suspect we'll reach an island soon. Depending on how long it takes the Log Pose to reset, we may backtrack to Kuraigana with the Eternal Pose."

Walking over while still fascinated by the falling solid water, Tamara couldn't quite stop herself. "Is that a roundabout way of saying we're lost?"

Gold eyes looked at her sharply but without heat and a slight smirk danced on the edge of his lips.

"Pirates don't get lost, my dear. We travel where the sea takes us. Sometimes it might not be where we planned, but it doesn't mean the change isn't welcomed," he changed the subject, noticing her obvious energy. "You're looking better. How do you feel?"

Rubbing her gut a bit, she managed to smile grimly. "Better. Much better actually. Guess I'm not much of a seafarer."

"Very few have a natural constitution for ocean travel," Mihawk said. "It's something that comes with time."

Whether Mihawk had meant it that way or not, the reassurance made her feel slightly better. A dark shadow within the white fog around them drew her eye and Tamara turned at the same time Mihawk stood up. Before them, were several towering cylinder-shaped peaks. The island looked fairly large, with hills of ice and spruce trees coated in snow.

"Hmm, Drum Island," the Shichibukai hummed, tapping his lips unconcernedly. "We drifted further than I thought."

"You know this place?" Tamara asked, turning to Mihawk.

"Only by reputation," he replied, sharp eyes scanning the shadows of the island. "I've never been on its shores. The mountains are quite distinctive though -it's undoubtedly Drum Island."

Smiling despite the cold turning her cheeks red, Tamara stared at the enteral winter paradise blissfully. "Well, I don't care either way. It'll just be nice to be back on solid land for a while." Her teeth chattered, and she wasn't sure if she really meant it. "It's really cold, though."

"It will get colder as the sun sets," Mihawk strode off. "Gather your things. I'll find a spot to make port."

Landing on Drum Island's shores was easy. There were plenty of deep drops that made for a good anchor point. The wintery landscape was breathtaking to Tamara, a glittering wonderland. However, traveling through the island wasn't as fun. The heavy snow made walking a challenge. Virgil clearly didn't like the snow nearly as much as she did, as he latched his claws into her cloak to avoid falling off her shoulders. She ended up walking behind Mihawk, whose larger legs cleared a trail for her to move through more easily.

The pair eventually made it onto a cleared pathway. It looked like a road of some sort, though it was hard to tell. The snow was firmly packed down and several sets of tracks lined the ground. Tamara pulled her cloak a little tighter around her to block out some of the cold, fighting down a shiver. She hadn't exactly packed expecting to come across a winter island, but her thick covering was doing the job for now. Glancing at Mihawk, who still wore his customary open face coat, she wondered briefly if he was feeling the chill, especially given that he was carrying a massive chunk of metal on his back.

Wisdom and self-preservation told her not to ask.

As they walked together in silence, a sound tittered upon the frosty air. Tamara paused and looked behind them as Mihawk mimicked. It was a tinkling of cheerful bells and the clip-clopping of hooves. A winter sleigh pulled by a brown horse came down the road. The pair moved to the side as it approached. It was manned by an elder grey-haired gentleman in thick winter gear with a wide-brimmed cowboy hat.

The driver pulled the horse to a stop as he got close, tipping his hat in greeting, "Howdy folks. You heading into Cocoa Weed? I've got some room in the back if you're wanting a ride. I'll get'cha there in no time."

He spoke with a distinctive drawl that made her want to giggle. Aged eyes looked over Mihawk, lingering on his sword for a few moments, but otherwise, the man didn't seem to care much about it. There was no fear or screaming recognition like on Redemption.

"Quite generous of you to offer two strangers passage on your transport. Are you in the habit of this, sir?" Mihawk asked smoothly.

A heavy sigh was let out by the sleigh driver and he sent a tired smile towards them. "Times are hard with the King taking all the Doctors away. Just trying to help out where I can. Besides, that can't be letting such a pretty lass tire herself out walking."

His comment didn't make much sense and Tamara blushed a bit when the man sent a flirtatious smile towards her. He had to be at least three times her age. In response, Mihawk had the gall to chuckle lightly, making her send a sharp look towards him before she responded.

"I'm quite capable of taking care of myself, Ojii-san, but thank you for your concern. A ride to the town would be much appreciated."

Mihawk gave a single nod in return and the two walked to the back of the wagon. Virgil jumped off her shoulders and started poking around the crates and furs lining the floor as Tamara sat down with legs dangling over the end. Mihawk had to unsheathe his sword in order to follow suit, resting the blade against his shoulder and secured it with one arm over the cross hilt.

The ride wasn't as smooth as one would think. It was bumpy and rough, jolting Tamara. She'd had to scramble back from the edge three times to avoid falling off, but the contents of the wagon prevented her from sitting as far in as she would have liked. When the sleigh suddenly hit a particularly large bump, she was thrown against Mihawk's side and smiled somewhat apologetically towards the Warlord who merely smirked and looked forward. It would've been a casual exchange save for the muscled arm of steel that wrapped around her waist, securing her in place.

Tamara's breath caught in her chest. Mihawk glanced at her and she felt his arm start to loosen. She relaxed into his side, moving closer and gripped his wrist in one hand. Her response was not what she was expecting. It was almost as if her body moved without her mind's permission

"Sorry about the rough ride," the old man called back. "Road hasn't been maintained in a long while. You two doing okay back there?"

Mihawk's arm stayed around her, stabilizing her position even as he partly turned to the old man, giving a nod. The driver smiled in response.

"Won't be much longer now, I promise. And hang on tight to your lady, there's a bad patch right before town."

Tamara flushed crimson and opened her mouth to correct the driver about his comment, but her words stuttered as Mihawk's arm tightened slightly and he spoke softly.

"It doesn't matter, Little Thing. It's what will be assumed, and it does not concern me. Best that you have the same thought, otherwise you'll spend every waking minute correcting people."

She flushed again, ducking her head shyly. It was still strange, having a man touch her. But she didn't feel panic or fear rising. Maybe it was because it was Mihawk, but part of her really hoped it was because she was moving on. As the wagon slid onwards, the heat from the Warlord seemed to push the cold away and Tamara smiled a little as the winter paradise passed by.

* * *

The mountain inn that they were directed to was surprisingly cozy. Plush armchairs and loveseats filled the main lobby with a large fireplace that crackled with cheerful flames -which also shifted to a green color upon Mihawk entering the area, freaking out a small group that was chatting near it.

Tamara stamped the snow off her boots and immediately went over to the warmth, holding her hands out and ignoring the babbling of the locals. Virgil followed, started to groom off the flake of white from his back. Mihawk found it mildly amusing as he walked over to the front counter. Behind the wooden barrier, a plump woman with curly brown hair and twinkling eyes smiled brightly.

"Welcome to Eastwood Inn," she said welcomingly. "My name is Sybil and I'm the owner of this establishment, so if there's anything you need, please don't hesitate to ask."

Without pause, he responded, "How long does a Log Pose take to reset here?"

"One week," she replied, and then moved on quicky. "Will you be wanting a room for yourself and the young lady? I have a lovely deluxe suite available."

"That will be suitable for me. Arrange a second room next to it for my companion," he said.

Sybil blinked a bit but proceeded to gather the keys for him. "Of course, my apologies. I get a bit carried away sometimes, and the pair of you make a lovely couple, I must say."

Mihawk pushed down the slight twinge of annoyance. People would be what they were. Nosy, judgemental and presumptuous. He would not let it bother him. Nodding to the inn keep as she handed over the keys, he turned and walked towards Tamara. She looked up as he approached and accepted the key from him.

"So how long are we here for?"

"Seven days. Once the Log Pose sets, we'll move onto the next island. I doubt this one will have what we need."

Sufficiently warmed up, she moved to a nearby chair, kicking off her boots and tucking her legs up. "Why do you say that? Is it not big enough?"

He removed _Yoru_ , leaning her against the back of the sofa and rested himself beside her, pushing back the urge to correct Tamara on her shoelessness. "Drum Island is large enough, but if recent news is to be believed, things are...complicated here."

Tamara didn't answer right away, choosing to look into the fire and think deeply before answering, "This has something to do with what the Old Man said right? About the King taking Doctors and the road not being kept up?"

Her quick mind always managed to impress him. He simply nodded. "Redemption is a democracy, a government chosen by the people. A rarity on most islands. Most are monarchy ruled, some have good Kings, others don't."

She looked away again, biting her lip by habit. Virgil jumped up beside her, perhaps sensing her uncertainty. The two remain silent, enjoying the reprieve from the cold. Sybil broke the silence. "Something to drink?" She looked to Tamara with a patient, motherly smile. "How about some cocoa, dear?"

Tamara smiled brightly, nodding eagerly. The kindly owner turned to Mihawk. "And for you?"

"Wine, if you have it."

Her face fell downcast. "I'm afraid not, but I've some strong whiskey if you prefer."

"That will do."

Sybil left quietly, returning after a few minutes. Tamara gleeful sipped her drink while he enjoyed the burn of the alcohol. It had been a while since he'd had hard liquor. Outside, the snow fell quietly, and the night was starting to take over. Internal lighting were turned on, giving a calm, peaceful mood to the area. The locals had left, leaving Tamara and him alone with Sybil occasionally walking by to check on them.

Mihawk let himself relax, still surprised with how comfortable he was around Tamara. People, in general, annoyed him, grated on his nerves and made him wish for solitude. With her, it was like she meshed with his needs, knowing when to speak and when to remain quiet. Not even Maria had been able to do that, and she'd known him since he was a child.

"I suppose you find it a little strange, being someplace where no one knows you," Tamara spoke softly, drawing his mind from his thoughts, almost like she'd known his mood was shifting. It was starting to become eerie, how she seemed to instinctively read him.

He smirked back knowingly. "Slightly, but don't be fooled. It likely won't take long before-"

His comment was interrupted by a crashing and a frantic yell from outside.

 **"EVERYONE COME QUICK! PIRATES HAVE ATTACKED BIGHORN! WE NEED HELP!"**

Tamara looked a bit exasperated and scowled at his growing grin, "Not a word."

* * *

Curiosity at the attack was the only reason Mihawk chose to accompany the group of men that went to the nearby town. Bighorn was a larger townsite and was located closer to the Drum Rockies. For safety sake, he'd wanted to leave Tamara behind.

She'd have none of it, her bleeding heart making her duck past and dart out the door before he could even suggest it.

Through the panicked crying of the locals, Tamara had managed to start a conversation with some of them as they huddled on the sleigh rushing towards Bighorn.  
"Don't your towns have guards or something?" she asked. "I thought you had a King, doesn't he have soldiers to protect you?"

A young male gripping a pickaxe managed to answer, "Of course, but for some reason, all the royal guards have vanished. I think there were recalled to the castle to protect him."

Tamara looked troubled by this news and fell silent. Mihawk glanced ahead and saw the trees start to thin. The forest road started to clear and he turned to look at the approaching town. Men fanned out and started a frantic search pattern. Mihawk lazily walked the streets with Tamara nearby. Buildings had large chunks removed, some had no roofs, others had walls missing. But there was no debris scattered about the area. The wreckage that should be seen was gone, almost like it had been swept away. All that remained was evidence of a fight, with a battlefield cleared of all chaos.

Ever quick on the uptake, Tamara voiced the question in his own mind. "Where are all the people? I thought...shouldn't there be bodies or something?"

Glancing around as he reached out with his Kenbunshoku Haki, he frowned more deeply when the only auras that were seen were those that came to the town in the first place. Something was definitely very wrong.

Unsheathing _Yoru_ for precaution's sake, he continued exploring. "Stay close, Little Thing. I don't like this."

"Glad I left Virgil behind," Tamara muttered as she took a step closer and pulled out her own blade from her waist.

As they searched with the others, no invisible threat jumped from the snowy shadows. There was almost nothing. There were still no survivors found. Or any corpses. It was as if they'd completely vanished.

The Shichibukai squinted faintly, spotting a faint, green aura slowly making its way towards the town from the mountains.

"H-Hey! It's Dalton! It's the royal guard Dalton!" someone shouted.

Mihawk and Tamara followed the crowd as a once imposing man limped painfully into sight. He had black hair and board shoulders, but despite his size, he was clearly in bad shape. As everyone crowded around, Dalton sank to one knee while shaking. Bruise, scrapes, and lashes could be seen on what skin wasn't covered by the winter clothes he wore.

There were shouts of alarm and concern. "Dalton!"

"What happened to Bighorn!? Are the pirates gone!?"

"Where are all the guards!? And the King!? Should he be helping fend off the attack!?"

Dalton was panting in exertion as the frantic people bombarded him with questions. Mihawk finally had enough and moved forward, gently but firmly hardening his tone and causing the locals to fall silent as they sensed power reverberate through the air,

"Back away, all of you. Give the man some air."

People scrambled backward at the order and some even shook a little. Tamara was the only one to stay nearby and she darted over to Dalton's side as he struggled to recover.

"You look like hell," she said without thinking, and then realized that that might be what people would call rude. "What happened?"

Dark brown eyes looked up at her, then shifted to Mihawk , widening in recognition, "Warlord _Hawk-Eyes_ Mihawk. This is an unexpected surprise. What brings you to Drum?"

Murmurs and gasps sounded from the crowd, but he ignored them.

"I'm just passing through. You look like you've had quite the fight."

Dalton managed a weak smile tinted with dried blood around his lips, "Not a fight. Punishment from the King for daring to question his ruling."

Tamara jerked back in shock at that comment but Mihawk continued to speak anyways, "I see. Where is your King now?"

"Gone..." The people around started to cry among themselves, questions flew through the air and Dalton coughed before continuing,

"The pirates attacked the castle. Our King chose to flee like a coward rather than fight. He took all the guards with him. There's no one left to defend the island now...except me."

Tamara stepped back and Mihawk watched with some respect as Dalton struggled, but managed to get to his feet. After a few moments of drawing in heaving breaths, Dalton looked to the people. "I know you've all suffered at our King's hand, and for that, I am truly sorry. I should have acted sooner, saved you the pain and misery. But you have my word, citizens of Drum, I will fight to protect you till my last breath!"

Cries of joy and victory flew into the air. Fists were raised, and weapons clashed together. Dalton turned and pointed to the top of the tallest Drum Rocky.

"Those of you willing to fight, to protect our home, follow me to the castle! We will drive back these pirates and take back our land from tyranny!"

Howls filled the air as the crowd started running towards where Dalton had pointed. Mihawk heard one person yell something about getting to the ropeway. He assumed that was some kind of transport to get to the top of the mountain. As the bodies thinned around them, the hulking man turned to him.

"I won't dishonor myself or my Kingdom by asking for your aid, Warlord," Dalton said respectfully. "I am sorry your visit came at such a bad time. If things were different, you might have had quite a pleasant stay."

Mihawk smirked slightly. "Indeed, you're quite the man to attempt to hold this land afloat on your own shoulders. I wish you good hunting, but I've no interest in chasing after whomever it is causing all this mayhem."

"I understand. It's been a pleasure to meet you, Warlord."

Mihawk gave a slight nod to Dalton and watched the warrior move after those that intended to fight. Tamara stood by him, watching the figures fade into the night. He waited a few moments before speaking, "You're disappointed in my choice."

Her head snapped up. "I didn't say anything!"

"You don't have to," Mihawk pursed his lips. Her face said everything. "You wanted me to aid them."

She bit her lip in hesitation before responding softly, "It's not my place to tell you what you should and shouldn't do, Mihawk-san. I would've helped them, but I'm not you."

He looked to her, feeling an odd sensation in his blood, a need to reassure her of her security beside him. "You, more than anyone are permitted to ask my favor, Tamara. Don't ever doubt that. You're welcome to join them if you like. But I don't like this situation, it feels wrong."

She stared back, a flush growing on her cheek. With the moonlight streaming through the foggy clouds, snow falling like glittering stars and her sapphire orbs searching his eyes, Tamara looked like an ethereal spirit of winter. Serene, sweet and breathtaking. Mihawk felt the urge to step closer -to brush his fingers down the pale length of her cheek and over her lower lip, plumped to a rosy pink from her teeth.

"I think I'd just get in the way. Fighting in snow is not something I've ever done. Are you afraid of what they'll run into?" A squeak exited her mouth as she covered the treacherous orifice again. "I-I mean...that is..."

The sound her voice pulled him back. Mihawk almost shook his head to clear it. He waved a hand, dismissing her stuttering causally. Her inquire didn't offend him, which was surprising, given that she was questioning his resolve.

"Not fearful," he paused for a moment, finding the word. "More...apprehensive. Bodies are a natural part of a battle. The fact that none are present is concerning. I prefer to act cautiously, charging into something without forethought is a fool's errand. And I don't go out of my way to hunt down pirates unless they get in my way. Only when I'm bored, which I'm currently not."

He turned and started to walk back to where the transport sleighs had been left. Tamara fell in a step behind him. The feeling of relief that she was following him and not the ragtag locals flooded through him.

There were still a few men lingering in the townsite, searching futilely for their countrymen. But one of them noted the pair walking to the sleds and came over, offering to take them back to Cocoa Weed. As Mihawk moved to climb into the back, a chill ran down his spine. Pausing, he looked up at the tall mountain where the King's castle supposedly sat, narrowing his eyes in suspicion.

* * *

Upon the top of the high mountain peak, the massive castle of the Drum Kingdom sat in almost peaceful serenity. Then, the doors burst open and several figures waltzed out, the leader a large round shaped man with surprising thin limbs that laughed in delight,

" _Zehahahaha_! Well this was fun, wasn't it, fellas!? Nothing like a little murder and pillaging to lighten the mood! _Zehahahaha_!"

Behind him, the crew of four-five if you included Doc Q's horse, Stronger- chortled along with _Blackbeard_.

Burgess thrust his arms up and flexed impressively, " _Wiiihahaha_! You put on quite the show, Captain! Did you see the look on that chump's face when you dumped those bodies in the throne room? Thought he was going to drop dead! Made quite the mess!"

Marshall D. Teach grinned broadly. The side trip to Drum Island had been fun. A good way to test out his new _Yami Yami_ powers. Sucking up all the corpses and battle debris, then dumping it in the palace had just been entertainment value. It was unexpected that the act had made Wapol literally pack up shop and run for the hills. But he supposed it was all fun and games. It _did_ leave his vast treasure stores for him and his crew to nab.

"Shall we continue on Captain? There's nothing to stop us now, with the King having fled with his soldiers." Laffitte tapped his feet in tune to his words, somehow managed to create noise even though the ground under his feet was soft snow.

"That may not be quite right." Standing on the edge of the flat top peak, Van Augur fidgeted with his crosshair eyepiece as he looked into the distance.

Teach sauntered over to his sniper. "Whatcha got?"

Augur didn't answer right away, continuing to adjust his lens, "It looks to be...I may be mistaken, but I believe I've just spotted a Shichibukai."

"That don't make no sense! Ain't no reason for a Warlord to be out here! You're just seeing things, Augur!" Burgess growled. The sniper turned to Burgess and sniffed a bit, saying nothing to the hulking man.

"Shichibukai go where they want and do what they want. It is our misfortune that one chose to land here," a wheezing cough came from Doc Q as Stronger hobbled over. The ogre-like fighter looked like he was about to start a brawl with the cripple for daring to go against his words.

"What did you say, Doc Q?" The gears in _Blackbeard's_ head started turning and his next comment stopped the fight in development.

Teach rubbed his palm over the signature whiskers on his chin as a thought started to form from the depths of his black mind. "Warlords go where they want...like someplace forgotten by history. Yeah...that just might work. _Zehahahaha_!"

Some of the crew looked at each other in confusion, but didn't question their Captain's mutterings, accustom to the whimsical nature of Teach. Augur spoke up again as he surveyed the area. "It would appear that the local citizens are also on the move. Several armed men are making their way up the south ropeway."

Teach pulled his mind from his thoughts at that."You don't say? Well then, guess we better be packing up. Gather up the loot and let's ship off fellas! _Zehahahaha_!"

The crew gave hearty cries of agreement, loading their backs with sacks filled with berries and jewels. It would be a good start to his plans, money was needed to get his foot in the door, so to speak. That and his crew enjoyed it. Lumbering along with his boys, Teach didn't give much thought to his sniper lingering on the edge of the mountain.

As Van Augur refocused on Mihawk, the hawk-eyed man turned and looked straight at him. The icy glare feeling like it pierced straight through him. The sniper shivered a bit. _So that was what real power was like_. Quickly looking away, he jogged to catch up to his crew as they started to leave via the north ropeway.

* * *

 **So got a brief look into the Blackbeard pirate crew. I'm doing this both because I really enjoyed the Drum Island Arc. However it was never fully explained why Wapol jumped ship so fast. Cowardly as Wapol is, I figure even he would have done something to protect what was his. But if Teach dropped half a town of corpses in his throne room...hell, anyone would've been spooked.**

 **I also wanted to give an idea of timeline in the series itself, as I will be keeping to the cannon events that the Straw Hats went through. So once again, thanks for the support.**


	13. Festival of the Stars

**Hello again my lovelies.**

 **First off, huge apologises for the massive delay in updating. The holidays are always a rough time. But I'm back and my good friend C.S Skywalker is back, so we're good. Thanks so much for all of your patience in this. Hopefully, I made the wait worth while.**

 **Once more, must give a shout out to my Beta, with whom this story would not be nearly as good, I am sure of that.**

* * *

"And two of the prime Sea King cuts...actually make it three."

"Of course, Miss."

Tamara smiled brightly at the vendor as he carefully wrapped up the meat. The street market was absolutely bursting with people, making it tricky to get service. Behind her, a young lad pushing a wheeled cart waited patiently for her to add the food to the load. He'd been well paid to assist her in getting all the supplies back to the ship.

Terrerose Island was not like any other place she'd visited, not that the list was very long. For starters, this was the first place she'd been on the Grand Line that wasn't allied with the World Government. She wasn't counting Kuraigana seeing as how Mihawk technically owned it.

It was a balmy summer island, much like her homeland. Or at least the section they'd landed on was. Terrerose was actually considered to be a four-season island. The weather patterns around it was so erratic that each quadrant of the island had a different season. It was a massive tourist trap, since everyone who visited could do any activity they wanted. All that was needed was to travel to whatever season you wanted. Someone could downhill ski one day and sun bathe on the beach the next if they wanted.

So, with that being said, Tamara felt perfectly comfortable walking around in a breezy ankle length pink dress printed with a dark red strawberry's and a straw sunhat decorated with a cheerful daisy. She was also quite surprised and pleased with herself for how at ease she felt moving around the crowded street. It had been a while since she'd been exposed to so many people and even longer since she actually been in physical contact with anyone other than Mihawk. In this setting, dodging bodies and brushing elbows were inevitable.

She hadn't freaked out yet, although the number of people in the area was stifling. Tamara was very hopeful about that fact. Maybe time was really all she'd needed to begin her recovery.

"Was there anyplace else you wanted to go, Miss Tamara?" The voice of the helpful wagon boy, named Kenji, drew her attention. He was a fresh-faced youth and had been more than happy to guide her around the busy townsite.

After the pair had docked and found an inn to stay at, Mihawk had recommended they separate in order to finish the errands more efficiently. Therefore, by this splitting up of labor, she was in charge of getting all the food. Tamara honestly had no idea what Mihawk was picking up and really didn't care either way.

Checking over the list in her hand, she ran a finger down the scrawling. "Mmm...actually...no. I think that's everything. We got eggs, right?"

Kenji nodded before looking away. She pored over her list, not noticing the second shy glace he gave in her direction. "Alright...Can you lead me back to the dock? It was pier 3, right?"

"Pier 4, Miss Tamara. Docking stall 19."

Terrerose was also very large and quite confusion, an easy spot to get hopelessly lost in if one didn't know where to go. As the brown-haired boy started to lead her back to the waterfront, Tamara spent the time admiring the colorful buildings and trying to memorize the layout of the streets. She didn't really succeed.

Unloading the contents of the wagon took less time due to him helping her. Tamara stood on the deck of the ship and took everything into the storage hold while Kenji waited patiently with the next item. A few times their hands brushed, and he would flush and fidget, something she didn't see due to the constant movement.

When everything was inside, she shut the door tight and locked it. Slipping the key into the shoulder bag she carried, Tamara looked to the young man. "Would you mind showing me back to the inn, Kenji-san? This island is so large, how do you keep track of everything?"

"It's not so hard once you know some of the major land marks. Like that building there," he said, pointing. Tamara looked to an elegant shine structure with upward curving corners on the roofs and traditional Japanese doorways.

"That's the Shrine of Keklos, God of the Sky. It's said that it was built by beings that had white wings and lived above the clouds. Now it serves as a hostel for travelers and the primary location for the Festival of the Stars."

"What's that? Some kind of celebration?" Tamara asked as she tilted her head.

He nodded. "Once a year, a small comet passes close to the world. It can't be seen by human eyes alone, but it brings a shower of light across the night skies. Terrerose started holding a party on that night as an attraction for tourists and a way to let the locals enjoy the display."

"Well, that sounds like fun," Tamara said as they finally reached the hotel front. Kenji shifted aside as she moved to the front door. Turning back, Tamara smiled softly at the boy. "Thank you for your help today."

"It was my pleasure."

As she started back towards the inn, Kenji spoke again, "M-Miss Tamara..."

Shifting to look at him, Tamara cocked her head as the young boy flushed deeply and squirmed in place, "Uhh...I-I was wondering...umm...would-would you like to go to the Festival...maybe-with me?"

She blinked several times as she finally realized what he meant.

"Ehh? Oh...ummm, well..." Tamara was the one that now looked uncomfortable. That was unexpected. But she had to start reintegrating back into society somewhere. This might be a good opportunity. Rubbing the back of her head, she looked away from Kenji. "Uh, when is the Festival being held?"

Kenji appeared hopeful. "Tomorrow night."

Biting her lip in habit, she glanced back at the inn. "Mmm, that might not work. I'm not sure I'll still be on Terrerose tomorrow. But...if I am, maybe I'll see you there?"

A shy, but bright look came over the young man's face. "Then I'll look for you at Keklos's Shrine." He bowed respectfully before taking his cart and moving on, looking for more tourists to show around the city.

Tamara watched him fade into the crowds, analyzing her own emotions. A few months ago, the idea of being close to a man would have sent her into a frenzied panic. Now though, all she felt a slight amount of nervous jittering bouncing in her lower abdomen, but nothing overwhelming.

That was something she was glad about. Hopefully Kenji didn't think she was leading him on. Tamara honestly didn't know when Mihawk wanted to leave the island, so she'd hadn't been lying in her response. Climbing the stairs to the rented room, she unlocked the door and smiled at Virgil, who lazily mewed in her direction from his sunbathing perch on the windowsill.

Mihawk had arranged a large suite that was technically two rooms connected by a lockable door on one wall. She had one and he took the other, but it made it easy to communicate. They'd left the door open between the rooms. Tamara assumed when they went to bed it would be closed it for privacy.

Pulling off her sunhat, Tamara heard Mihawk's door open and the sound of his footsteps, "Mihawk-san?"

"Hnn...?" Came the distance response. She felt her lips twitch in a smile as she walked onto his side of the suite to better talk with him.

"I've finished up with getting all the food supplies. We should have enough for several weeks now, but I can get some more if you lik-" She trailed off as she saw the unexpected sight. "Oh my God! What happened!? That better not be your blood!"

Tamara stared in shock at Mihawk, who was covered from head to toe in a red, gooey substance.

* * *

 **4 Hours Earlier...**

There were disadvantages to shopping on an island such as this. For starters, the natives tended not to show near the amount of respect owed to him. Mihawk resisted the urge to knock a portly man that brushed to close to him into the nearest wall and chose to step aside instead, continuing onward.

Glancing up to the large building that was his destination, his nose twitched a little at a sweet smell that permeated the air. The scent came from a colorful building with large smoke stacks and images of candy, sweets and other childish designs on the outside.

He paused and studied the building for a moment,

"That's the _'Sweetie Pies'_ Candy and Bakery factory." Mihawk turned his head as a random woman spoke beside him. She nodded towards the overly gaudy structure. "They're a big business on Terrerose. A lot of their goods are exported across the world; rumor is the Yonko _'Big Mom'_ is one of their clients."

He looked away, saying nothing to the women before continuing to walk. A slight huff was heard in his ears but ignored. The information wasn't really interesting to him and he hadn't asked for it.

Continuing towards his destination, Mihawk entered through the large doors. A young woman with lilac colored hair noticed his entrance and smiled politely.

"Welcome to Zerdo's Exports. How may I help you today?"

Mihawk looked over the large warehouse. It was filled with items of all types, from ship masts to granite slabs all the way down to portable generators and bundles of rope and cables. Turning his attention back to the women, he spoke curtly,

"I require a number of items to be delivered to my home island. Your company can provide this?"

She nodded professionally. "Oh of course, we transport and deliver to all sections of Paradise. Depending on the location and risks involved, some extra fees may apply. Please step this way and I can arrange everything."

A while later, Mihawk exited the warehouse rather pleased. It would take roughly 2 weeks for the company to reach Kuraigana and he'd left strict instruction that the crew was not to set anchor on the shores without him present. The company was evidently used to dealing with complex deliveries and had agreed to the terms. He'd left one of the Eternal Pose's with them for a guide.

Satisfied with the deal he'd made, Mihawk started to make his way back to the inn. As he walked, a sudden commotion split the air and the enraged yell of a male voice caught his attention.

"You assholes! I'm going to kill you all! Stop fucking staring at me!"

Mihawk lazily looked over at a tall, muscular man with bright red hair oddly styled upwards into flame shapes. Violence radiated from the male and _Yoru_ hummed on his back in caution. Beside the fuming man was another, one looking much calmer, but no less deadly, wearing a blue and white striped mask with long messy blond hair. His mind gave them both names even as they started to tear through the civilian crowd, slicing flesh with hooked scythe-blades and impaling others with a sharp dagger.

Eustass _'Captain'_ Kid and _'Massacre Solider'_ Killer.

Two notable rookie pirates the Navy was definitely interested in. Their bounties were impressive enough for such young people -but not enough to interest him even when the two were slaughtering the innocents of Terrerose and causing a mass panic. People raced past him, screaming and yelling for help as he calmly continued walking.

Evidently, his lack of response to the brutal killings insulted the hot-headed Captain.

"Hey you!" Mihawk resisted the urge to sigh and paused in his stride but didn't bother turning to acknowledge Eustass.

Behind him, the easily angered Kid grinned in malice. "I know you. You're _'Hawk-Eyes'_ , one of the Shichibuikai."

"Your observation skills are most impressive, boy." The flat tone tinted with sarcasm didn't seem to register with the rookie, but it had reached Killer.

"This is a bad idea, Kid," the man cautioned his captain.

"Shut up, Killer," he snarled, and turned back to Mihawk. "So then, _'Hawk-Eyes'_. You gonna leave so soon? I was just having a little fun."

Looking over his shoulder to place the arrogant rookie in his sights, Mihawk sent a chilling glare at the boy. "Then by all means continue. I have no intention of stopping you, if that's what you're implying."

Kid gave a harsh laugh. "That so? Not a very good guard dog, are you? Letting people get slaughtered right in front of you. What would your Government masters say about that?"

"Are you attempting to provoke me?" A small smirk curled on the lips of the Shichibukai. "You'll have to do much better than that. Then again, little more can be expected from a worm like you."

His comment only served to further infuriate the short-tempered pirate. Kid's eyes practically glowed with rage as he snarled, "Don't you act like I'm nothing, you bastard! You're dead!"

Purple sparks started to jump off his arm. Mihawk felt both _Kogatana_ and _Yoru_ vibrate, being pulled towards the rookie, the latter actually lifting from his chest for a moment. A surge of Busoshoku Haki coated both blades and stopped the attraction.

The same could not be said for every other piece of loose metal in the area. The air was filled with flying objects -coins from purses, small daggers, flintlock pistols and anything else. All of them flew to Eustass's arm, starting to form a giant limb.

Mihawk pretended to pay little attention to that, though the rookie's Devil Fruit power was quite impressive. Something more distracting did catch his eye though.

An absolutely massive barrel flew over the fence from the nearby Candy Factory. The large metal bindings on the wooden cylinder shook and started to bend from the force of the magnetic pull Kid was applying. Before any of them could do anything, the round strapping snapped off.

The barrel proceeded to **_explode_ **in midair!

A huge showering rain of liquid poured down on the area. Startled cries, yells and exclamations from civilians still in the zone, as well as a few choice curses from Kid and Killer were heard. He lowered his head as the sticky, cherry flavored syrup coated him and every other inch of surface area nearby. On his back, _Yoru_ whined in prissy rage.

For a few moments, everyone stayed still and quiet, trying to figure out what had just happened. Kid looked surprised and shocked, covered in the sugary goo and still possessing a partial formed metal limb. Killer's mask prevented any facial expression, but his body was tense and coiled.

Mihawk slowly turned to fully face the culprit.

At the unhurried motion, the infamous pirate rookie seemed to finally realize just what he'd accidently done and no longer looked like a cocky little punk. Killer mutter softly, _"Oh Crap..."_ right before Mihawk whipped _Yoru_ from his back and sliced the air.

Both pirates ducked on instinct. The massive attack cleaved the roofs off buildings for blocks, sending them crashing to the streets and causing extensive amounts of damage before the it flared out over the ocean, filling the air with a terrifying metallic shriek. Kid was bowed on one knee with a turned head, eyes opened wide in disbelief and awe. Fearless and arrogant as the man was, Eustass was not a fool. Or suicidal.

 ** _"REPEL!"_**

Mihawk was forced to shift his attention to the catapult of flying objects aimed his way. _Yoru_ sang through the air as he blocked, cut and knocked aside everything that threatened him. Unfortunately, by the time the air was cleared, Kid and Killer had disappeared into the city.

He traced their aura's easily, debating if the effort of following the pair was worth it. A trail of stickiness rolled down his bare chest and Mihawk wrinkled his nose at the uncomfortable sensation. The insult the rookie had caused would be remembered, but aside from the discomfort, he wasn't overly upset. Youth were foolish and impulsive, after all.

Turning his back, he sheathed Yoru and walked away, the only thought in his mind of the shower stall in his rented suit.

* * *

Which lead him to the current situation. With Tamara staring wide eyed with concern and near panic painted on her face. He waved a hand in the air while removing _Yoru_ from his back. "It's not blood, Little Thing, be calm. I'm not injured."

Relief filled her features as she walked closer, eyes scanning over his form. "Oh, thank the Blues, you scared me. Let me take your coat, I'll have the laundry service wash it."

Mihawk peeled off the item, amused as her nose twitched at the sickly-sweet smell of the syrup. Tamara took the cloth, eyebrows furrowing as she pulled a hand away, feeling the sticky mess on her skin.

"Do I want to know what this is?" she asked with a crinkled nose. "Or what happened?"

"Probably not." Came the short reply.

She chuckled lightly, giving a small shake of her head as she started to walk back to her suite. "Hate to see what the other guy looks like," she sighed, " Leave your clothes outside the door, I'll grab them after."

He chuckled in response, more pleased at her willingness to tend to his needs without complaint or direction than he wanted to admit.

* * *

The hiss of the cloth over metal was a soothing sound. _Yoru_ purred on his lap as Mihawk scrubbed the last of the foreign substance from her gleaming surface. Most of the syrup had been cleaned the night before, but he was meticulous in the treatment of his blades.

In the opposite room, he listened distractedly as Tamara moved around. She seemed to be doing something, but he was too involved in cleaning his partner to determined what it was. Lifting the Black Sword, he carefully looked over his work, satisfied with the results.

Pulling _Kogatana_ from his neck, Mihawk started to repeat the process on the smaller knife. The door between the suits opened and he heard Tamara walk in.

"I'm off Mihawk-san," she said cheerfully. "I'll be back later tonight."

Still working to remove the last residue of the stick syrup, he replied in a distracted tone, "Fine, Little Thing. Where are you go-" His comment stuttered to a halt as he stared at the young women before him. "-ing."

She wore a deep red kimono with a river of pink and white flowers and gold and tan butterflies flowing from the bottom upwards across the skirt and long, floor length sleeves. A wave of yellow and pink color crossed the formal dress at an angle. The waist was bound with a shimmering gold obi with light tan swirl patterns on the surface and had a rope of round red beads tied around it. The end of her dagger's hilt protruded from the top. Under the rich colored material, a lighter white underlayer was seen. Her long, golden hair was twisted in an elegant bun on her crown and secured with two crossed sticks decorated with red and pink metal flowers.

Words failed him as heat flared through his bloodstream. She looked absolutely stunning.

As he stared, a flush crossed her face and she looked away shyly."So, do I look okay? I've never wore anything this traditional before."

Jolting mentally, Mihawk resumed running the silk cloth over his blade, acting outwardly as though his heart wasn't pounding in his chest. "You're acceptable. Where are you off to in such formal wear?"

"There's a big celebration at the Temple tonight. I thought I'd go see what it's about. Did you want to come along?"

Re-sheathing _Kogatana_ around his neck, Mihawk leaned back into the sofa he sat on, forcible calming his heart before looking back at her.

She tilted her head and shook her head with a small smile."A simple _'No'_ would have been fine, I didn't need that look aimed my way."

Mihawk arched an eyebrow. "What look."

Tamara moved back to her side and he heard the jingle of belis before she re-appeared carrying a small purse the she tucked into the obi, "I call it the _'holier-than-thou'_ look. Pretty sure half the time you don't even realise you make it. But you angle your head just so when you do. Anyway, I'll be back later. Hopefully Kenji can recognise me in this outfit."

Mihawk's eyes snapped to attention. "Who?"

"Kenji, a local boy," she said slowly, a bit startled. "He invited me to the Festival. I wasn't sure we'd be here, so I couldn't really promise much. It's supposed to be a big event, I might not even see him."

He shoved aside the dark wave of emotion that hit suddenly, ignoring it in favor of continuing the conversation. "I see. You're making friends quickly."

"Don't know if _friend_ is the right word. Acquaintance, maybe. But...I figure I have to start somewhere."

Her voice grew quieter near the end of her sentence, fingers laced together nervously. Mihawk saw trepidation in her every move and realized she was forcing herself to go forward with this plan, trying to make herself tolerate the pressures of society once more. His chest clenched at the vulnerable look on her face. It was unnatural for her, he didn't want to see that expression.

Standing up in one smooth motion, he sheathed _Yoru_ on his back."Let's be off then."

"I thought you didn't want to come?"

"Did I say that?"

She huffed a little but looked more relaxed as he walked to her side. "Not out loud."

He nodded and shifted, offering his arm to Tamara. She paused for a moment before gently setting her hand in the crook of his elbow. The walk to the temple wasn't far and there were already a large number of people gathered. Stalls were set up on the sides, selling food, trinkets and games. Paper lanterns lit the area and performers awed nearby crowds.

Tamara stayed close to him, eyes darting around in interest. She studied a nearby fire breather as he exhaled a plume of flame into the air. The red pillar shifted to green before fading and she glanced at him with a slight smirk,

"That never gets old." He lifted one shoulder in a shrug before they moved on.

The Shrine of Keklos did hold some interest to him. In the center of the building there was a classical garden with a wishing fountain. Several people were gathered around it, tossing belis, bits of metal and flower petals into the water. Tamara gleefully darted towards it, plucking out a coin from her obi. Mihawk watched as she tightly closed her eyes for a few moments before flicking the gold into the water.

As she made her way back to his side and they continued exploring, curiosity hit him. "What did you wish for?"

Her blue eyes danced happily. "I don't think I'm supposed to tell you that. Otherwise it might not come true."

"I believe that's an old wives' tale."

"Yeah, well. I'm not risking it. Oh hey, they're serving sake over there. Want some?" Mihawk turned to where she was pointing, noting a small patio area with a number of stools and tables set up. He inclines his head in response and they found a place to sit.

Tamara's interest was captured by a group of people who were nearby. The music was lively and upbeat, and the crowds moved in a synchronized pattern. A traditional style of dance that his companion watched closely. He saw her bite her lip in hesitation before he spoke,

"Go if you wish. Join them." Tamara still paused, studying the dancers, "You'll not move on till you try, Little Thing. Sometimes the greatest acts of courage start with the smallest steps taken."

She stayed seated for a few more minutes, waiting till a bottle of sake was set on their table by the waitress before standing and taking in a deep breath. Mihawk watched from the edge of his vision as she paused on the outskirts of the group, constantly biting her lip.

"Quite a lovely Lady you have."

A new voice drew his attention and he turned to see their server standing near with a coy smile on her lips. She had dark black hair accented with a gentle wave, smoky hazel eyes and smooth, slightly tanned skin. He sipped his drink before replying uninterestedly,

"Some would say so." The women shifted a bit closer, picking up the bottle and offering to fill his cup. Mihawk allowed it.

"You don't sound like one of them. " She bent a bit lower than needed as she set the bottle back onto the table, bringing her body closer to him. He noted that her dress was cut low, showing a generous amount of cleavage. A sultry look was sent his way, her eyes hooded with seduction and temptation,

"I could offer you some company, if you like. I promise you'll not be disappointed."

He allowed his eyes to trace her form. Tall, slim, generously curved and extremely beautiful. Mihawk hummed low in his throat. "You're a rather bold one, aren't you?"

"If you don't take the risk, you don't get the rewards. I like to live a little dangerously." She gave a slight smirk as she moved away, tossing her hair a bit, "If you change your mind, feel free to find me later."

He watched her walk away, hips swaying in a way designed to catch the male eye. A confident woman clearly aware of her attractiveness and unafraid to flaunt it. She was exactly the type he normally turned to when temptation struck. Mihawk felt a slight desire to accept her offer. It had been a long time since he'd partaken in any carnal pleasures.

Motion from the corner of his eye caught his attention. Turning, he watched as Tamara turned in time with another young man, their arms upwards and hands pressed flat together.

A sudden and violent desire to remove the male's skin from Tamara's hit him. His free hand clenched into a fist tightly, and he forced himself to stay seated, choosing to look away and take a carefully controlled drink from his cup. All thoughts of the dark-haired women were purged instantly as he glanced back to study the petite girl in red whirl and spin with the music.

* * *

Tamara stood on the edge of the dancing group, trying to work up the nerve to step in line. The steps looked simple enough and the contact between people was minimal. But it was still daunting, the idea of trying to tolerate being that close to men again.

"M-miss Tamara?"

Turning, a small smile crossed her lips, "Kenji, hi. Guess you found me."

He was blushing fiercely and kept looking away from her, shifting around. She wasn't really sure why. Finally, he nodded to the group behind her. "Would-would you care to dance, Miss Tamara?"

"Just Tamara is fine. And... maybe. I'm just..." She faltered as she spoke, biting her lip. Then she recalled Mihawk's words. Glancing over, she saw him speaking with a dark-haired woman at the table. A surge of discomfort hit her, an unknown and unfamiliar emotion rising up. Swallowing back the alien sensation, she turned to Kenji.

"Umm...yes. Shall we?"

Kenji nodded shyly and the pair stepped into line with the others. Tamara focused on the music, the sound of the notes and merriment. She recalled similar events on Saguine, how happy and joyful she'd been during them. As she flowed into the steps, moving with the group, her comfort and confidence started to grow. No one was grabbing her or being mean, everyone was enjoying themselves.

Her smile grew as she pressed a hand to Kenji's, turning in a circle. It was fun! Tamara managed to laugh lightly as she clicked the side of her sandal to his shoe before they spun in place and bowed to each other. The song ended and everyone clapped happily.

"Kenji!" Tamara turned to see an older woman with dark hair like his waving from further in. Her dance partner waved back.

"My mother," he turned back to her, smiling a bit embarrassedly as he scratched the back of his head. "I promised to show her around the Festival. I'm sorry, I have to go. T-thank you for the dance, Miss...err, Tamara. I'm glad I got to see you again."

"Same here," Tamara said. "Have fun."

He nodded and walked off to his parent, glancing back for a moment. Tamara smiled back before returning to the table and Mihawk. He was impassive as always but looked over at her as she sat. The women she'd seen speaking to him earlier was gone. The odd clenching in her lower gut lessened and tense muscles she hadn't been aware of relaxed in her shoulders. She felt relief that she was once again the focus of the Warlords attention. Tamara ignored the fleeting thought that she might have been feeling a touch of jealousy.

"That's the boy you mentioned earlier?" he said, flatly.

"Kenji, yes," Tamara replied. "How's the sake?"

"Acceptable," he took another sip and then studied the girl. "He didn't remain long, I thought you said he invited you?"

"He did, but I don't think he was expecting me to come."

"Hnn..."

She smiled slightly at the response, feeling the atmosphere of the Festival start to lighten her heart. She was glad she'd made herself come, even though she'd been nervous at first.

The two stayed at the patio for some time, polishing off the bottle of alcohol. Afterwards, Mihawk stood and Tamara followed along, continuing through the grounds. Impulsively, Tamara bought a colorful glass bauble shaped like a starburst. It was a nice little souvenir to remember the event from. She tilted an ear as they walked. Several people were getting excited, speaking loudly about the waited event.

Her companion seemed to sense the change in the air as well. She followed along as he led them away from the majority of the crowds to a more secluded place. They ended up at the edge of a river that ran through the city. There were a few other people gathered on the grassy shore, but not a lot.

Mihawk removed the massive blade from his back and set it on the shore with the utmost care before sitting, taking off his hat in the process. She folded her legs carefully in the narrow skirt of the kimono and settled next to the Shichibukai. Both looked up at the night sky, filled with glittering stars.

"You're quieter than normal, Mihawk-san."

He didn't answer for a bit. "I am...thinking."

"About what?"

"Nothing you need to concern yourself with."

She glanced over at him. His gaze was trained upwards, expression unreadable. Even though she'd learned to notice some small expressions and emotion, she couldn't detect anything from him at the time. Then light crossed over the sky above. Tamara's eyes looked up as streaks of white flew across the heavens. Wonder and majesty filled her at the comic display.

As she watched spellbound by the star fall, her hand drifted to the ground and brushed against Mihawk's where it rested. Before she could pull away, fingers turned and entwined with hers, gently but firmly. Warmth tingled up her arm from the contact, the sensation making bumps rise on her skin. There was no fear or panic that rose up. Rather, there was a stirring in her gut again, the sensation of a thousand butterflies fluttering in her stomach. Swallowing, she shifted her attention back to the rain of light.

Sitting next to him on the grass like this, Tamara felt all was right in her life. Nothing else mattered, she wasn't alone in the world anymore. Captivated by the sky, Tamara didn't see or sense the gold eyes that shifted to her face, watching only her while the heavens danced above.

* * *

 **And that's where this chapter will end. I hope that I'm progressing the romance at an acceptable level and not rushing things too much.**

 **Shout outs to my peeps.**

 **6BlueSweaters: Thanks so much. I'm glad I'm writing up a fic that you like so much.**

 **Kmbrun: Sorry, no Chopper meeting. But stay tuned, there will be other characters appearing that are just as loved.**

 **Desirae668: Always good to hear from you. I'm curious about who takes care of the mansion as well. In my mind, I would think Mihawk, the isolation loving man he is, would probably do anything basic, but tolerate professional worker around when needed. Not like he doesn't have the cash to pay them, giving that he does loot from other pirates.**

 **TheComprehensiveJellyfish: So happy that you're enjoying my OC. I've always loved OC's but had a hard writing them up. I'm glad I'm doing a good job. Thanks for the words of encouragement.**

 **Stopdropanroll: I plan on continuing the story. Hoping that you stick with me.**


	14. Arrival of a Rival

**Hello again, my faithful readers,**

 **I am amazed and honored by the number of reviews and followers I have for this story. When I started it out, I honestly wasn't expecting this much love over the concept. To all you people who offer support and encouragement, you all have my deepest thanks.**

 **With this chapter comes the long awaited and often requested appearance many have been asking for. I do hope I've managed to accurately capture these two beloved characters, seeing as they don't show up too often and tend to speak even less. So if anyone has any suggestion, please feel free to speak out.**

 **I also must add on that due to unfortunate events, my awesome Beta reader is unable to proofread this chapter. With that said, I am looking around for a new partner in crime to work with. If anyone is wanting to help out, and get some sneak peeks into further chapters, please drop me a line.**

 **But enough prattling, on with the story. XD**

* * *

Snapping out the damp cloth, Tamara hung the material over the rope and pin it in place. At her feet a white basket full of clothing waited to be stretched out on the clothesline. A gentle wind blew by, ruffling the line of fabric already set out.

Picking up one of Mihawk's shirts, Tamara's nose twitched a little as the deep scent always around him infiltrated her senses. It was a comforting smell, something familiar. She wasn't sure when she'd come to enjoy it, but she simply couldn't resist the urge to lean in and inhale the moist material.

Blinking suddenly and feeling a flush hit her cheeks, she pulled away and continued with the task, glancing around to make sure she was alone. The only one nearby was Virgil, who was batting playfully at a few strands of grass.

Finishing with the laundry, she picked up the basket and walked back inside. Tamara set down the hamper near the door before going deeper into the castle. She'd need it later, to fill up once the clothes were dry. Virgil followed along with her. Her white sundress rustled around her iconic bare feet. Mihawk would be annoyed but she enjoyed the cool feeling of the stone on her soles.

When she crossed the hallway threshold into the main forage, Tamara promptly froze dead in her tracks.

There were two men standing in the front entryway.

Neither of them was Mihawk. In fact, the Shichibukai wasn't present at all.

One of the men was a tall individual, even taller than Mihawk. She felt positively miniature in comparison. He had a lit cigarette clenched between his lips, short grey hair and an X shaped scar on his left temple. Tamara swallowed hard at the sight of the rifle causally resting in the yellow sash at his waist. Even the colorful spiral patterned cloak didn't make her feel any less nervous.

The other man was shorter, but no less intimidating. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the slick mane of screaming bright red hair he sported, moving on to the three scars over his left eye and wide cheerful grin showing off white teeth highlighted by a thin layer of stubble. A saber was sheathed on his right side.

Upon her entrance, everyone momentarily stopped moving and stared at each other. The awkward stand-off was broken by the red haired male.

"Well hey there, Pretty Lady. You're a new face I haven't seen before."

Tamara shifted her focus to the one that spoke, feeling her muscle tense up despite the friendly greeting. Her hand crept to the small of her back as she responded, trying to keep her voice steady, "The last person who came into this house without permission, I threw out a window."

Mentioning the fact that she'd been yanked out the window as well wasn't smart, she _was_ trying to be as threatening as possible. The grinning male blinked at her three times, then promptly threw his head back and laughed heartily,

" _Dahahahahaha_! I thinks she's talking to you Benn! Your mug scares all the pretty girls! Better watch out, Old _Hawk-Eye's_ got himself a new bodyguard!"

Tamara saw the taller man smirk towards the chortling crimson, "I doubt very much that's the case Captain, if anything you're upsetting her," he inclined his head towards her respectfully, "Forgive my overly euthanasic friend, Miss, we're not here to cause trouble. We've come to see Mihawk, is he home?"

She flicked her eyes back and forth between them suspiciously. Neither male moved and she didn't feel a threatening presence from them. However, that didn't mean they weren't dangerous as hell. After all, they were pirates, she dealt with enough of them in her short adventures to know that. Motion from the floor drew her attention. Virgil padded across the room to the red haired man and Tamara opened her mouth to order her pet back, fear flooding through her blood.

But the black feline looked up at the smiling human, tilting his pointed head before aggressively rubbing against the exposed skin his short, floral printed trousers showed off. Tamara stared in shock as the man cooed in delight, crouching down to scratch Vigil's back,

"Awww...kitty! Aren't you cute. Who's a good kitty? You are!"

Even from her distance place, Tamara could hear Vigil purring happily at the attention. The fact that the elder male was goo-goo at her pet like a hyper toddler was lost in her surprise. She watched as the sleek cat switched targets, weaving between the rifle carrier's feet and though he didn't bend down to pet him, the smile on his face climbed higher as he watched.

Afterwards, Virgil turned and trotted back over to her. As though nothing out of the ordinary was happening.

Coiled muscles relaxed, a hand dropped from her back and her stance shifted back to a normal poise, heart rate dropping as she calmed. If there was one thing she'd learned, it was that Virgil was an impeccable judge of human character. If he liked these two men, didn't feel threatened by them, then she trusted his instincts. For now, it would seem there was no immediate danger.

"You know Mihawk-san then? He's expecting you?"

"Do I know Mihawk?" The red head guffawed out loud, bending forward slightly as he snickered at some internal joke she couldn't begin to understand.

A light cuff to his head was delivered to him via the grey haired man called Benn. The giggling didn't cease, "Behave yourself for once, will you? Yes, we're familiar with Mihawk, though I doubt he was expecting us."

She paused after that comment, debating silently about what to do. It could be a lie, the last raid on the house had been very cleverly planned out. But there'd been other signs of trouble prior to that attack, and Virgil had been completely up in arms. Right now, her pet was calm and relaxed, tail gently swishing back and forth. Besides that, if there was a problem with these men, Mihawk would already be here. Of that, she had no doubt.

Nodding carefully, Tamara moved further into the room, coming to stand before the pair, "Very well then, you can wait for Mihawk-san in the drawing room. Follow me, please."

It took a lot of will power to turn her back on the men, but she did so. Footsteps sounded behind her as they followed, one pair a bit quicker than the other. A sudden weight fell across her and Tamara's heart jumped back up into her throat.

"So what's your name, Pretty Lady?"

The red haired man was right beside her, with his right arm slung over her shoulders and a grin so wide stretched over his face, it was all she could see. She inhaled the scent of sea salt, sunshine and gunpowder, as well as the lingering odor of alcohol. Tamara waited for the soul wrenching fear and panic to rise. Waited for the scream to explode from her lungs, the desire to lash out in fear, the need to pull back, to run, hide and tremble...

It didn't come?

Before she could do anything else, contemplate her own state of mind, the male was yanked off her by his companion, his arm falling from her shoulders, "Give the girl some space, Captain. Contrary to what you believe, women do not swoon at the mere sight of you."

Tamara managed not to stumble and turned to look over her shoulder while still walking forward. The red head's cloak was fisted in Benn's hand and he was looking at him in scandalous disapproval even as the shorter male whined like a scolded kid,

"Aww, come on Benn! Haven't I told you not to make me look bad in front of pretty girls."

"You manage to do that well enough on your own."

She felt a slight flush light her cheeks even as a small smile twitched on her face. These two men were certainly different, not the type she'd expected Mihawk to associate with. Finally arriving at the room she wanted, Tamara lead the two over to a large square table with four high back cushioned chairs.

Stepping aside, she waved at the furniture, "You can wait here for Mihawk-san, I'm sure he'll be along soon. Can I get you anything in the meantime? Coffee or tea, perhaps?"

Manners couldn't hurt at this point, and she was currently representing the Warlord.

Both men pulled out a chair and sat down, looking far too relaxed and comfortable in her opinion, considering they were inside a Shichibukai's home. Virgil jumped up onto the redhead's lap, demanding more pets and he grinned at her while rubbing the felines ears,

"Don't suppose I can convince you to raid _Hawk-Eye's_ booze supply, huh? He's always got more than he can handle and I'm getting thirsty."

Despite herself, Tamara's lips curled in an almost smile. His boisterous personality was rather charming on some level. His knowledge of Mihawk's collection did make her feel slightly better about letting them come further into the castle, it was more likely that they were speaking truthfully.

"Unfortunately Captain-san, I happen to enjoy the sensation of breathing. So unless Mihawk-san says its okay, you'll have to go without alcohol for a while."

Brown eyes looked up and widened massively, a pout forming on the man's face. All while he was still grinning and scratching her cats head. It was truly baffling to behold, "Awww...come on. I won't tell if you won't. Pleeasseee."

Tamara blinked at the puppy-dog look, briefly wondering just how old this guy was seeing as he was acting like a teenager. Was he actually trying to guilt-trip her into stealing from Mihawk? Benn shoved his captain again, ending the pleading and smiled politely at her,

"Coffee will be fine, Miss, thank you for your hospitality. Besides that, you need to sober up."

"I am sober! Mostly, anyway..." Tamara heard this response over her shoulder as she walked towards the kitchen and couldn't stop herself from softly giggling. They were certainly interesting company.

* * *

The dank air and dark forest was silent and still. He needed that, needed the solitude, the distance and quiet. He needed to meditate, re-center himself and figure out what was happening to him. Well, that wasn't really true. He had a pretty good idea what was happening. He just wasn't ready to fully admit it yet.

Exhaling softly, Mihawk shifted to a cross legged position. Before him was a small pool, more of a murky swamp than anything. But it hummed with life, like most of Kuraigana. Everyone that came to the island thought the landmass was a dead zone, only holding the deadly Humandrills and himself. He knew different. It was very much alive, though in a much different way than most places.

But he wasn't out in the wilderness to connect with the island. He'd done that long ago, learned its songs and sorrows. Breathing deeply, Mihawk focused on his heartbeat, keeping it steady and strong, letting the rhythm clear his mind so his true purpose for being out here could rise.

She was getting too close.

It hadn't been his intention, to let Tamara become this important to him. He'd found her interesting and useful. But somehow, without his knowledge or control, she'd slipped past his defences. She'd snuck up on him, more skillfully than any assassin ever could have. Ever since the Festival of Stars , where he'd seen her in all her glory, observed the looks of longing other men sent towards her, seen how well she was learning to fit back into society, he'd had to fight fiercely against the desire to stake his claim.

Because he had no right to her.

He was her protector, her sponsor, someone she looked to for guidance and support in a dangerous world trying to weed out the weak. It didn't take much effort for him to see that she viewed him mostly in a platonic fashion. Mihawk was more than aware of his own allure and he'd enjoyed his fair share of women in countless different ports, had several females literally throw themselves at his feet because of it, in fact

Tamara might occasionally look his way from the edge of her vision, or flush shyly when an unexpected contact occurred, but she was far from enamored. Yes, she'd admitted to finding him attractive in a drunken stupor, but seeing as she remembered almost nothing about that night, he couldn't really use that as creditable information.

She'd shown interest at times, but it was difficult for him to say if her actions were genuine or an empathic act that she mimicked from his body language. Mihawk knew he could be overwhelming at times. It could also be an instinctive reaction she did because of his status and demeanor. After all, Tamara had yet to deny him anything. If he asked for something, she obeyed without question. The one exception being on Redemption, but seeing as he'd been leaving her behind, he didn't count that.

Then there was the dilemma of his position. Not only as a Shichibukai, which brought with it benefits and downfalls, but also the fact that he was the current holder of the title _'World's Greatest Swordsman'_. He had enemies, hundreds of enemies. His chosen lifestyle denied him the luxury of having a women of his own. A female, no matter how strong, stubborn or resilient, was a liability. A weakness, something to be exploited.

Mihawk couldn't put her through that, no matter what his treacherous emotions demanded. It was safer to continue to treat her like he was. As an engaging companion, houseguest and respected servant. It would be better by far to find a haven for her to live out her life in peace and harmony, letting her raise a family and love another.

Lips twisted in a dark snarl at the though of any other man being near her. His selfish desire meant he didn't want to let her go. He wasn't even sure he could muster the will to do that anymore. Not unless she demanded it. Beyond all that, even if he allowed himself to consider the possibility that a relationship on any level could be achieved, there was one glaring issue that continually popped up.

He wasn't allow to touch her.

Ever since the catacomb cave in and outside their training sessions, every encounter of contact had been initiated by her. He'd taken advantage of those moments, certainly, but it didn't stop the fact that he was honor bound by his own oath to avoid physically touching her. Ture, it wasn't needed to establish a deeper connection, but it did severely hamper the effort.

Inhaling again, Mihawk focused on pushing down his desire. He was unaccustomed to denying himself anything, it was part of being a pirate. One was allowed, and almost encouraged to be petty. If he wanted something, he took it. If a fight was needed, an opponent killed or any other obstacle was in the way, it was removed. But this...this was quite possibly one of the hardest things he'd done in a very long time.

As he meditated, a sudden flood of power hit his senses, making Mihawk's golden eyes snapped open. Turning his head, Kenbunshoku Haki humming in his blood, he honed in on the disturbance. A familiar, bright crimson aura gleamed in the distance like a fallen star. Beside it, a more sedate, marginally weaker sapphire blue light followed.

Letting his breath slowly exit through his nose, he closed his eyes again. Shanks and Beckman could find their own way to the castle, he didn't need to escort them. Though their presence was a surprise. It was likely they didn't come for a formal visit. The last time Shanks had showed up unannounced was right after he'd accepted the position of a Warlord, in which his first sentence utter had been, _"Have you lost your damn mind?!"_

He pushed back Shank's powerful aura and continued his cleansing. Already he knew this would not be something he could shrug off easily. But he was a man of uncompromised discipline. He would find his balance again.

* * *

Alone in the kitchen, Tamara exhaled slowly, working on her own composer, completely unaware that her breath matched that of an absent Shichibukai's. The kettle whistled loudly and she removed it from the heat. Measuring out the coffee grounds, she added a teaspoon of cinnamon to the mix.

The added spice was probably part of the reason Mihawk liked her brew so much.

Setting up a tray, she set up the cups and saucers. Almost ready to leave the room, she hummed in afterthought. Tamara slide out a tin from the counter and popped open the top. Grabbing a plate, she added a pile of raspberry scones onto the platter. Taking in another steadying breath and picking up the heavy tray, she heard the loud voice of the pirate captain long before she got back to the drawing room.

"This place looks great! How come my room isn't this clean?"

"It would help if you actually picked up your dirty clothes once and a while."

Their conversation paused as she entered. Benn sent a gentle smile towards her. The yet still unnamed red head beamed in absolute joy at the sight of her, "Welcome back! Oooo...did you bring snacks? Aww, I knew you liked me."

She'd barely set the tray down before two of the scones was snatched up. Benn sent his companion a dirty look before looking at her with sympathy, "I apologise. He's an idiot."

"Heffy!" The muffled, full mouth protest made her fight the urge to snicker behind her hand before she turned over one of the cups, lifting up the warmed pitcher of liquid,

"It's fine, Benn-san. Do you take cream or sugar?"

He shook his head, accepting the drink politely. She moved to pour his captain a cup, forced to move her hand quickly when he grabbed another sweet cake. The pile of scones was much smaller and the red head had crumbs caught in his scruffy whiskers.

"These are great! Did you make them?"

"I did."

Setting the cup of coffee near the captain, she moved to step away. Benn's protest stopped her, "Won't you join us? You'd be welcomed company till Mihawk arrives."

Biting her lip, she glanced at the doorway, as though the Shichibukai would suddenly appear in a flurry of black cloth and metal. No such event happened.

"Oh my god! You are so cute! Kawaii!"

Tamara jolted at that, jerking her gaze to the red haired male. Who was feeding Virgil a chunk of his scone while her pet half stood with paws on his chest. His eyes looked up at her and twinkled, "Not as cute as you though."

Flushing deeply at that, she shifted uncomfortably. Benn stepped in again. He seemed to be constantly correcting his captain's fauxpauses. She had the feeling it was a common occurrence, "Have another cake. Please, won't you sit?"

He upturned one of the unused cups and poured her a serving. Which made leaving the room really awkward. After a few moments of hesitation, she slide into the chair across from Benn. Tamara added her standard flavoring to the dark liquid before picking up the cup.

"Have you been living with Mihawk for long?" Benn questioned once she settled in.

Tamara shrugged lightly, "About 5 months now," she paused in mild surprise at her own words. Had it really been that long? Pushing away the thought, she continued, "I keep the house in order."

"So that's why its so tidy in here. Do you do mobile work too?"

She looked over at the captain when he spoke, but before she could response, Benn interrupted, "You can do your own cleaning, don't try to pawn it off on someone else."

He sounded so motherly, Tamara had to take a swallow of coffee to avoid giggling. She shouldn't be so calm in the presence of these men, but something about their personalities just put her at ease.

"You know, I never did get your name, Pretty Lady."

Shifting focus back to the redhead, Tamara took another drink, "That would be because I didn't give it, Captain-san."

Once more, the man pouted at her, "Aww come on, we're all friends here. Right?"

Despite herself, she felt a smile creep over her face. How could one not find this man somewhat amusing?

"That remains to be seen."

The deep voice, not belonging to either male but achingly familiar, had her standing up before she knew what was happening. Mihawk did not sound impressed.

* * *

Entering through the back door, he calmly walked towards the aura's in his home. Tamara was with Shanks and Benn, her golden shine almost swallowed up by the other two. He pushed down the irksome twinge of irritation that came with that knowledge. _Yoru_ hummed on his back in comfort, she didn't like the fact that her master was upset. Schooling his features and bracing for what was coming, Mihawk walked through the entryway of the drawing room.

He was immediately grateful he'd taken the extra time to prepare for meeting Shanks, as he otherwise might have given into the urge to cleave off _Red Hair's_ head.

Tamara had settled the pair in and been a respectable host. That wasn't what bothered him. It was seeing her smile at Shanks over the table while her cheeks held a slight flush of color. Mihawk hadn't viewed the swordsman as a rival in years, their competitions had smoothed out long ago. But in that instant, every driving desire to step above Shanks wrenched through his system. He wanted to see him humbled and bowing before him, hear him admit out loud Mihawk's superiority.

Mostly, he wanted Tamara out of sight of the red head, who despite his childish and energetic personality, somehow always managed to charm his way into everyone's good graces.

It only lasted an instant before Mihawk overcame the flood and spoke out loud. Tamara jolted, leaping to her feet and looked uneasy. Shanks and Benn turned to look at him, the latter's grin climbing even wider.

Tamara shot the pair a quick glance before folding her arms behind her back. He knew instantly that she was gripping the dagger held there, "Mihawk-san. These men claim to know you."

If he answered negatively, she'd probably attempt to attack them. She could be a fierce little warrior when needed. Shanks broke the tension before he could speak again,

"There you are, you old sea dog! I was wondering how long you'd keep us waiting."

Looking over at the obnoxious man, Mihawk pressed his lips together a bit more firmly at he moved closer, unsheathing _Yoru_ and leaning her against the chair opposite Shanks, "Learning some patience would benefit you greatly. Benn, always good to see you."

The grey haired first mate inclined his head back, but said nothing as he sat. Tamara turned over the only unused cup and filled it, setting it near him. He waved her to sit down leaning back and studying Shanks as the man pouted at him,

"That hurts, _Hawk-Eyes_. Here I thought we were friends. Speaking of which, you should introduce your new lady. She won't tell me her name." He grinned towards Tamara, who flushed again, ducking her head away shyly.

Taking a sip of the warm coffee, he fixed a cool gaze onto Shanks, "At what point in our association have I ever claimed friendship with you, _Red Hair_?"

Beside him, Tamara suddenly inhaled the mouthful of liquid she'd been drinking, doubling over and coughing frantically. Benn came to her rescue, quickly snatching the cup from her hands before her hacking dumped the contents. Mihawk looked over at her as she finally cleared her lungs and stared at Shanks. Her face had gone pale and eyes were wide with disbelief before she pointed at him accusingly,

"You're a fricking Yonko!? How the hell did that happen?"

Benn laughed out loud at the dumbfounded look on Shanks face and even he couldn't quite stop his lips from forming an amused smirk. Tamara's eyes darted between the three men before she slumped back into the chair, pressing her palms against her face. Mihawk heard a soft groan come from her. Benn took pity on her.

"That is a question many have asked. As of yet, I don't believe anyone has found the answer."

"Benn! You're making me look bad again."

Mihawk arched an eyebrow slightly before nodding towards the pair, " _Red-Haired_ Shanks and his first mate Benn Beckman. They are...old acquaintances of mine. Shanks, Benn...this is Tamara."

Shanks grinned brightly at her, "Tamara huh? Pretty name for a pretty girl."

He felt irritation bubble under his skin before he repressed it, taking a carefully controlled swallow from his cup.

"Did you come all the way out here to annoy me, or do you have some other purpose?"

Recovering from her shock, Tamara stood and looked to him in question, "Will your guests be staying for dinner, Mihawk-san?"

He deliberately paused at the question, appearing to think carefully before answering, "Much as I would wish otherwise, I suspect that will be so."

She nodded in understanding and started to leave. Partway to the exit, she turned back, "Virgil, come."

The black feline perked up from Shanks lap, jumping down and trotting after his master. Mihawk pushed down a growl as Shanks shifted in his chair, tilting his head and watched her go, eyes scanning over her form appreciatively. Once the petite blond was gone, the Yonko turned to him with a positively devilish grin,

"Please tell me you're tapping that."

The muscles in his arm tightened and _Yoru_ snarled as the desire to grasp the black blade and swing it at Shanks nearly overwhelmed him. Before he could act on the urge, a fist collided with the red heads skull, knocking him forward with a pained howl.

"Oww! What that hell was that for!"

Mihawk noted that a sizeable lump was forming on his head, indicating that Benn had hit with a Haki fist. The tall male glared hard at Shanks as he sat back in his seat, "Pull your mind out of the gutter, Shanks. She's been abused."

To his credit, Shanks paled at that comment, eyes widening in shock and the always present grin immediately vanishing from his face.

"What?! How can you tell?"

Benn met Mihawk's gaze, a serious expression on his face as he tapped his right shoulder with one finger, "I'm going to assume you didn't leave that mark on her neck?"

The air crackled as black rage filled him and he didn't bother pushing down the energy of his aura. Shanks actually shifted a hand to his sabre, all traces of glee and carefreeness gone from his face. Turning a deadly cold stare to Benn, Mihawk spoke very calmly as tension filled the air,

"If your intention in coming here was to die in the most painful way possible, I will gleefully accommodate you, Beckman."

He didn't flinch from the threat, but did raise his hands up, "Just making a point, Mihawk. No need to get violent."

"Ah hell...Why didn't you say something Benn? Now I need to apologise." Shanks lamentation shifted his focus. He looked horribly guilty as he ran fingers through his signature locks. Mihawk narrowed his eyes at the former rival.

"What did you do?"

Now Shanks was the one who raised his hand, waving in a manner meant to placate him, "N-nothing...It was nothing, I was just being friendly."

"What. Did. You. Do?" Mihawk deliberately enunciated each word, making Shanks shrink back into the chair.

"I just put an arm around her, that's all. It was nothing, she didn't seem to mind. Like I said, I was just being friendly."

That knowledge stifled his anger, puzzlement and intrigue rising in its place. Mihawk blinked slowly as he studied Shanks, "You touched her without permission?"

"Uhhh...yes?" Normally the fearful squeak would have please him to no end, but his query hadn't yet been finished.

"And she did not attempt to render you incapable of producing offspring?"

Shanks was almost white now. His mouth opened and closed dumbly, not making any sounds, so he simply nodded. A minute of silence followed, where Benn looked between the pair with calculating eyes, Shanks tired not to crawl under the table and Mihawk momentarily stared off into space. Finally he picked up his coffee cup and took a sip.

"Hnn..."

A breath whooshed from the Yonko and Benn took his hand off the butt of his rifle. Mihawk, in the few moments they took to recover, had several thoughts running through his mind. Tamara had allowed contact from a stranger. A male stranger, whom she didn't know or trust. But more importantly, she hadn't flown into a frenzied state from it. There was a familiar clenching in his chest and his mind betrayed him for a few moments. Perhaps it was possible. Perhaps she could accept him.

Pushing away that thought, he looked between the two men, "I will assume your visit here isn't to plunder my collection again. Why did you come, Shanks?"

A rarely seen expression of seriousness fell over the swordsman's face. After a minute of quiet, Shanks finally spoke softly.

"Marshall D. Teach has defected from _Whitebeard_."

Mihawk paused in the act of raising his glass. Running his eyes over Shanks's face, deliberately lingering on the three scars across his left eye, he took another swallow of liquid before answering, "Isn't that something you should be happy about? Without _Whitebeard's_ protection, you should easily be able to have you vengeance."

Shanks shook his head, shoulders slumping forward. For a few moments, Mihawk saw the full weight of what the red head bore upon those broad pads. Benn was the one that answered.

"It's not that simple. _Blackbeard_ left the crew after he killed one of the Division Commanders."

"Then he's already dead, its just a matter of time."

"The Old Man's already sent someone after him. Someone he shouldn't have." Shanks stared down at the tabletop as he spoke, his voice vibrating with wisdom, "You and I both know what Teach is capable of, Mihawk. This whole situation, its just the beginning of something bigger than anything we've seen. You've been keeping up with what's been going on it the world?"

"Of course."

Shanks nodded, "There's something coming, something I've seen on the horizon for months. Too many new rookies that are just too powerful, too many challenges towards the balance of power. Something's going to break soon and when it does, all hell is going to rain down. It's going to change things, change them in a big way."

Mihawk let the Yonko gather his wits before speaking again, "Why does this interest you so much?"

"You know _Fire Fist_ Ace? He was offered a Shichibukai position and shot it down."

"I remember. He was quite the young upstart if I recall."

Another round of lengthy silence followed, while Shanks seemed to age a thousand years right before Mihawk's eyes. Finally he looked up from the table, fixing the Warlord with a steely gaze that almost made him nervous.

"What I say next does not leave this room."

He held the Yonko's eyes steadily, inclining his head. Shanks had earned his respect long ago. He would honor his old rival's wishes. That and, he really wanted to know what was so damn important that Shanks felt it necessary to deliver this news in person rather than through a Den Den.

"Portgas D. Ace is _Gold_ Roger's son."

Mihawk almost dropped the cup in his hands. Even his immense discipline couldn't stop the shock from crossing his face. Setting down the china, he took in a careful breath before speaking, "Roger had a child? I always knew the man was selfish, but that takes it a bit far."

Shanks didn't appear to take any offence to that, despite it being a jab at his former captain, shrugging heavily.

"Yah, well. Love is a hurricane, I guess. I knew Roger had a women, never knew she conceived till _Fire Fist_ met up with me. Their just...too similar not to be blood. Ace can't handle _Blackbeard_ , not in any way. And he's too damn stubborn to back off if I say something. Probably end up having him try to kill me. Which leaves trying to talk the Old Man into calling him back."

"You believe you can convince _Whitebeard_ to do anything he doesn't want?"

"I have to try, Dracule. If I don't, we could be looking at a full on war in the future." The use of his first name from Shanks made him pause. The red head was one of the few individuals he allowed to call him that. It was rare that Shanks did so, which made this conversation all the more serious.

"You're a fool, Shanks."

"Maybe, but I can't stand by and do nothing, not with so much on the line. I just wanted to give you a head's up. You'll do whatever you want, as normal. But I wanted you to know."

Shanks was keeping him informed as best he could. He was right, the world was shifting. Mihawk had seen it as well. The reports from the Navy were getting more frequent, tensions were rising between the Marines and the Yonko, pirates were getting stronger and bolder, the Revolutionary Army was striking out more and more. Things were changing quickly. Something big was defiantly coming.

As quickly at the dark conversation had started, Shanks ended it with a cheerful grin,

"So do you have grog stalked up in your cellar? And what's for dinner? Oh, is Tamara a good cook? Good thing I left Lucky Roo on the ship."

Mihawk gave into the urge and pinched the bridge of his nose in sheer exasperation.

* * *

 **There we go. I certainly hope that was worth the build up and the wait.**

 **I am hoping that it makes sense to everyone why I had Mihawk admit his attraction to Tamara first. In my mind, with Tamara's self confident issues and general innocence, it would be more indicative for Hawk-Eye to make the first move. After all, no one in society generally goes after someone of great status or position in the first go, the intimidation factor is always present. So, this made more sense to me.**

 **And lets face it, there really is only one person in all of One Piece that could possible stand a chance in hell of competing with Mihawk for anything. There will defiantly be some rivalry tensions in the future.**

 **Until then, please feel free to review the works with your opinions and support. Truly you guys keep me going on this fic. Thanks again and see you next time.**


	15. Tension and Tequila

**Hello again my lovelies.**

 **First off, big apologies for the delay in updating. As it is, I've reached the end of my prewritten chapters, so now I'm working on catching up. But seeing the massive amount of support I've gotten, I simple can't help but post my work shortly after its done. I hate keeping you guys waiting when I've got something done. But on that note, it does mean chapter updates will be slower. I hope this doesn't dissuade anyone from following along. I will not abandon this fic, but I may take a short break between chapters to reboot myself a little.**

 **And wonderful news. I must give a heathy and hearty shout out to my new buddy AriesOrion, who has become a Beta reader for me. His help is greatly appreciated.**

 **I also hope that I am not going to OOC for anyone in this chapter. It is always a fear of mine whenever I try to create an OC. As always, I love all of your support and hope to see your beautiful reviews.**

* * *

Having Shanks and Benn in the estate certainly changed things. The Yonko had rather cleverly weaseled Mihawk into housing him for a time due to the fact that he'd sent his ship and crew off to collect needed supplies for their trip back to the New World.

So she, as both a guest and companion to the Shichibukai, did her best to accommodate the two new presences. Which was sometimes easier said than done. Benn was simple to deal with. He was ever polite and gracious, even going out of his way to help her on several occasions. Tamara felt very much at ease whenever she was around the grey haired First Mate.

His Captain on the other hand...

"Hey, Pretty Lady. Whatcha doing?"

Tamara jolted a little as Shanks' beaming face suddenly filled her vision. Reclining back on her favorite chaise lounge in the library, she was forced to shift over as the Yonko crawled onto the cushioned bench, her grip on her book tightening slightly.

For starters, Shanks had absolutely no sense of personal space. Unlike Mihawk, he was under no obligation nor promise to not touch her. She didn't feel threatened or fearful around him most of the time, but it was still a little unnerving just having someone of his status act so causal and laidback.

She shimmied to the edge of the furniture as Shanks sprawled out next to her, his curiosity at her reading material obvious as he tried to see the words on the pages,

"What are you reading? Maybe a story about a brave adventurer that sweeps a pretty lady off her feet? Wins her heart over with his dashing good looks and passionate kisses? Sounds like my kind of story." As he spoke, Tamara felt his breath blow past her cheek as he rested his chin on her shoulder, making her blush as his grin grew more devious and his eyes twinkled with mirth.

Shanks was also a horrendous flirt.

Taking in a deep breath, Tamara steeled herself, angling the book more towards her to block his view, "The adventure part is right, Shanks-san, but the only female in the story is currently debating whether to kill the dashing young man with a glass of whiskey laced with poison. So, he'd better be on his best behavior, if he knows what's good for him."

That wasn't at all what the book was about, but that wasn't the point of this conversation.

The boisterous Captain threw his head back and howled with laughter, shifting a bit so he wasn't pressed quite so firmly against her side. Despite herself, Tamara found a small smile crossing her lips. Shanks had an energy around him that somehow always managed to lighten the situation no matter what happened.

Tamara had come into the library hoping to get a few hours of alone time from Shanks. The Yonko was a charming and engaging person. His stories and conversations were truly fascinating. However, he could easily -and completely unintentionally- overwhelm her with his enthusiasm. She'd come a long way from when she first washed up on Kuraigana's shores. Yet, that didn't mean she was completely back to normal. At this point, Tamara wasn't sure she would ever return to being the young girl that grew up on Sagiune Peninsula.

Even now, with the Captain stretched out beside her, she didn't feel too uncomfortable. Or at least, no more than anyone else would with an overly friendly womanizer making eyes her way. Out of habit, Tamara glanced around the room. Benn and Mihawk had taken to being supervisors/human shields for her to turn to when Shanks became a little too much for her to handle.

She was pretty sure the red head had permeant damage to his skull from the number of times his first mate had clocked him.

Neither of them was currently in sight, but that was fine for the moment. Shank wasn't being too bad. Briefly she wondered if he was still drunk. Tamara was completely convinced now that part of being a world class Swordsman involved being able to consume copious amounts of alcohol without passing out. Watching Shanks and Mihawk in their nightly drinking contests made her head ache just thinking about it.

"Are you avoiding me?"

Shanks' out of the blue question pulled her back to the present. Looking at his face, Tamara saw he was only smiling a little bit. She glanced away, biting her lip out of habit, "A little. I'm used to having more alone time around here."

The Yonko shifted onto his side, propping himself up onto his elbow and rested his chin on his palm, "You're allowed to hit me if you're annoyed, you know."

"I think Benn-san has me covered in that regard. You're not that much of a pest...most of the time."

He laughed again, the cheerful sound lightening the mood. It was damn near impossible to stay mad at Shanks, he was just too charismatic. The male leaned in closer, brushing his nose against loose strands of her hair and inhaled deeply. If it was anyone else, the act would have been incredibly creepy. As it was Shanks, Tamara allowed it, knowing it was just him being who he was. There was no danger.

"Mmm...you always smell amazing. Like sugar and summer. I should get Benn to bottle it somehow, I'd make a killing."

Flushing again, Tamara tried to turn her attention back to her book. Sometimes if she pretended not to be interested, Shanks would get bored and wander off, "You could just buy my brand of shower gel instead. Probably be easier, though your crew might start wondering why you always smell like a girl."

"If that's the worst thing my crew thinks about me, I'll count myself lucky." He grinned at her again, "You know, I've been thinking about something."

"That's a surprise."

"Hey! Have you been talking with Benn?"

She chuckled lightly, "Many times, Shanks-san. You should know by now that women love the stoic, silent ones."

Shanks collapsed back against the lounge dramatically, whining out loud, "He's always stealing the pretty ones. I'm gonna have to order him to wear a bag over his head from now on."

"Good luck with that one."

"Aww...you're breaking my heart here. Have mercy." Tamara couldn't stop the laugh that left her mouth at the woe-be-gone look on the Yonko's face. They both knew he wasn't being serious.

"But in all honestly, I have had a thought bouncing around in my head for a few days," her joyful voice faded to a light giggle and he continued once he knew her attention was back on him, "You like me, right?"

"Is that a trick question?"

"Good answer. But no, I'm serious. We're at least friends, aren't we?"

Tamara paused as she considered her response carefully, "Well...yes, I suppose so. I enjoy your stories and when you are not being overly friendly, I'm comfortable around you. So... _friend_ would be a good start. I can agree to at least that much."

"You'd like to cuddle with me. I'm all warm and fuzzy, just like a big teddy bear."

"If I poke you in the stomach hard enough, will you squeak too?"

A massive grin filled his face, "Only for you, Pretty Lady."

She wasn't intentionally encouraging Shanks's rakish behavior, but her sarcastic comments seemed to just egg the Yonko on. Tamara also wasn't quite brave enough to verbally spar with him like she did with Mihawk. Even though he was so casual and relaxed all the time, there was an underlining fraction of tension she had around him that she just couldn't get over. But that was likely something that was needed for him to maintain his position in the New World.

"Well then, as friends, I'd like to propose something." Now Tamara shifted her eyes to him, giving him a long suspicious sidelong look. He grinned back without shame.

"Come with me to the New World."

Tamara jerked so hard she almost fell off the recliner, "I beg your pardon?"

"Oh, come on! It'll be so much fun, you'll love it. I know you are tough enough. You've kept _Hawk-Eyes_ in line, that takes some real moxie. Virgil could even come along; the crew loves animals. What'da say?"

She was still staring at him in shock, "I think Benn-san has finally broken your brain. What the hell would I do on a pirate ship? Despite what Mihawk-san says, I don't go looking for trouble. I've got no business running around the ocean, especially with a Yonko."

"You could help out our cook, he's always looking for extra hands, especially with Lucky Roo on board. Plus, I'd look after you, don't worry. You'd always be safe. You've got adventure in your blood, I can tell."

Shanks had an oddly serious expression on his face, something she'd rarely seen since meeting him. He leaned in a little closer, forcing her to meet his eyes.

"I like you Tamara. You're a truly amazing woman. I'd like the opportunity to get to know you better, but I can't stay here much longer. The sea's calling and Yasopp's going to have the ship back soon. Will you think about it at least? Really think about it?"

Her face flamed red, but she ignored it in favor of biting down on her lip and avoiding his gaze. She knew Shanks was sweet on her. He was a classic lady's man, hell he probably had a girl in every port. Tamara didn't know for sure if he was asking her this on a whim, or if he was truly being serious. If she was being honest with herself...she was a little tempted by the offer. The idea of traveling the world, actually experiencing the far-fetched tales Mihawk and him spoke of did make her consider accepting. If only briefly.

"I'll...think about it, Shanks-san. That's all I can promise."

"That's all I ask." As she glanced back at him, her heart rate picked up at the positivity devilish gleam in his eye, "Now then...didn't you say something about making me squeak?"

Without hesitation, Tamara snapped the hard cover book closed and slammed the stiff spine into Shanks head as he lunged to envelop her in a hug with his one arm. Bolting from the chaise lounge, Tamara raced from the library, hoping her surprise attack had bought her enough time to avoid another attempt at snuggling with her.

She really was serious about him not having any physical boundaries.

* * *

"A monkey? How exactly did that occur?"

Mihawk watched a wide grin spread over Beckman's face at his skeptical comment, "It's Shanks...do I really need to explain more than that?"

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, he took another sip from his wine glass. The two men were relaxing in the lounge room. Despite Mihawk's normally anti-social tendencies, he did like Benn. The rifleman had a mind sharper than a steel trap, a virtually infinite well of knowledge and interesting conversation. As it was, one of the books from his library was resting upside down on the table near him. Plus, when discussions of current world events and philosophy faded, there was always Shank's latest antic to talk about.

Exhaling softly, he let a few moments of silence fill the room before speaking again, "Even so, I would have thought you've have managed to talk some sense into him at this point."

"I'm a pirate, Mihawk, not a God. Don't ask me to perform miracles."

Biting back a light chuckle, which was harder than he wanted to admit, the Warlord acknowledged Benn with a slight smirk, "Fair point, I suppose."

Benn leaned back against his chair, blowing a blue tinted smoke ring into the air. The grey-haired man was respectful and deliberately moved his cigarette away so that the smell wouldn't waft too close to him. With his more heightened senses, the scent could be quite overpowering. The two men lingered in the comfortable quiet for a few minutes. Mihawk enjoyed the rich flavor of his drink and Benn scooped up the book he'd been invested in, flipping a page.

"This place does really look good, Mihawk. Tamara's quite the housekeeper. Though I am a little surprised you're comfortable leaving her alone for this long with Shanks on the prowl."

Gold eyes hardened and glanced over at Benn, who continued to read, unconcerned at the cool stare. Mihawk pushed down the surge of jealously that welled up before answering, "She is more than capable of handling your Captain. You'd be wise not to underestimate her."

"I don't doubt it, but once again -It's Shanks."

Mihawk didn't respond, choosing to look down into the swirling, burgundy liquid in his glass instead. For the past few days since Shanks and Benn's arrival, he'd been fighting fiercely with himself. The urge to constantly stay near Tamara and knock the hyper red head through the nearest wall was a difficult one to overcome. He'd pulled more on his training and willpower in the last 72 hours then in the past 5 years. At least Benn's interest in the lovely blond was only based on friendship.

Before he could devolve any further into the dilemma of his wayward emotional state, the object of his thoughts promptly bolted through the doorway of the lounge.

Mihawk looked up as Tamara skidded to a halt and Benn lowered his book in question. She was flushed and panting slightly, eyes darting between them briefly before she sprinted towards the couch he sat on. He was forced to lift his glass of alcohol a bit when she jumped onto the empty cushion of the loveseat and vaulted over the back, vanishing behind the furniture.

Taking a moment to push down both the flash of heat that had erupted when a pale, shapely calf had skimmed by his face and the annoyance that she was once more running around barefooted, Mihawk turned his head, looking over the couch's backrest.

Blue eyes met his without hesitation. Satisfaction filled him at the act, the lack of fear pleasing him immensely. She pressed an index finger to her lips with a soft plea as she crouched in hiding, "I'm not here."

Footsteps coming down the hallway drew his attention and Mihawk looked back to the entryway. Sure enough, Shank's form came into view not two heartbeats later, his gaze roaming the room. There was a vertical red mark over his forehead that didn't seem to bother him in the slightest.

"Hey guys. You've seen Tamara around?"

Benn shook his head. Mihawk responded vocally to his adversary, annoyance bubbling under his skin, "You might check the veranda. She's been attempting to regrow the plant life there."

"Really? That's awesome, thanks." And just as quickly as he'd arrived, the red-haired male was gone again. Benn sighed in irritation, pushing himself to his feet and tucking the book under his arm.

"I got it."

Mihawk watched Benn leave the room in pursuit of his Captain, wondering again at how the man managed to maintain such patience. If it had been him, Shanks would have ended up tied to an anchor and tossed into the deepest part of the ocean he could find.

Tamara's head popped up from behind the couch, looking around to make sure Shanks was indeed missing, before she cautiously circled around. He watched silently as she visibly relaxed, moving to sit beside him. After a while, he addressed his ward,

"If Shanks is being a bother, you need only speak up, Little Thing."

A slight wince crossed her face, "He's not that bad -most of the time, anyway. I just need a little space once in a while."

"Undoubtedly."

Tamara smiled softly at that, sinking back deeper into the cushions. Without thinking, Mihawk shifted his wine glass over, offering the contents to her. She blinked in surprise, but accepted it. Her fingers brushed against his as she gripped the crystal and he fought down a rise of desire in his blood. That didn't stop him from carefully watching from the edge of his vision as she pressed her lips to the rim and drank deeply, though he had to forcibly look away when her tongue darted out to lap a few stray drops from the edge. His control was still a bit shaky, there was only so much temptation he could handle at a time.

Lapsing into a comfortable silence, he soaked up the energy of her aura, coveting the fact that he was alone with her. Benn would likely keep Shanks away for at least an hour or so. For a short while, he could enjoy being the sole focus of his Little Thing's attention.

"Mihawk-san?"

"Hnn..."

Teeth caught lip and Mihawk wondered briefly what they'd taste like before her voice pulled him back, "You...don't mind me being here, right? In your home? I'm not imposing on you?"

Now he frowned deeply, concern about her inquiry stirring under his skin, "If I had issue with your presence in my abode, I would tell you, Little Thing. As I said before -you are welcome here for as long as you like. What brought this on?"

Mihawk watched a relieved smile crossed her face, "It's nothing, really. Just...Shanks-san said some things and I was just thinking them over."

"What things?"

Tamara jolted a little at the hard tone, wiggling in discomfort. Mihawk realized he might have sounded a bit too demanding and softened his voice, "What things? Has he been spinning more ridiculous tales again?"

"I thought you said most of those stories were true?"

"I said they were based in truth, not that every detail played out exactly as spoken."

"There's a difference?"

A smile crept over her features and Mihawk felt relief that she was calm again, "A substantial one. Now, what nonsense did Shanks fill your mind up with?"

Tamara glanced away, looking uncertain. It took a few moments for her to response, "It... he wants me to join him. To leave for the New World on his ship. I'm sure he wasn't being serious." She refocused on the glass in her hand, taking another sip.

Mihawk had never before in his life been more grateful for his extreme discipline than in that singular moment.

With her attention off him, she didn't see his muscle tense into hardened steel, or the nearly instantaneous expression of sheer, undiluted, uncontrolled rage that passed over his face. She didn't see his jaw clench so tightly he tasted the enamel of his teeth, nor the inferno of burnished gold erupt from his eyes. By the time she'd looked back towards him, he'd managed to compose himself outwardly, so she saw nothing but his normal, expressionless self.

"I see." He was honestly a bit stunned that his voice was so calm when he wanted nothing more than to find Shanks and string him from the castles roof by his toes. Preferable with his own intestines, "Are you considering accepting this offer?"

Blue eyes looked to him, clear as the waves of the sea. Tamara's golden aura was still calm and relaxed, she hadn't picked up on any of his tension or anger. For that he was grateful, he hated it when she was uneasy around him.

"I did think about it -for a second or two. But, no, I've no interest in travelling with Shanks-san. Honestly, I'd probably end up smothering him in his sleep."

"Good, you belong here." He snapped. She looked startled by the venom in his voice and Mihawk quickly recanted his comment, "I've grown rather fond of your culinary skills."

Tamara smiled back brightly, still blissfully unaware of the near overpowered desire he had to lock her away out of sight of any male. Her naivety was a blessing in this case. He was slipping around her, speaking out of turn and drawing attention. That would need to be corrected. But the very idea of her leaving with Shanks was unacceptable, he simply could not, _**would not**_ , tolerate it.

Another sip of the wine and a pleased hum filled the air, "This vintage is really good. Is it from the North Blue? There are winterberries in the bouquet."

Mihawk smirked in triumph. She was learning his passions, adopting them as her own. In that sense, she was already his. He nodded in confirmation and slipped smoothly into a lengthy conversation of the finessed liquor.

* * *

Several hallways away from the couple, a very different conversation was taking place.

" **OWWW!** Dammit Benn, I'll have you tried for mutiny!"

Pulling his fist back, the man currently being cursed didn't flinch one bit, "Good luck finding a judge to take that case. What the hell were you thinking Shanks!? Inviting her onto the _Red Force_!? The ship is no place for someone like Tamara."

Benn watched his idiotic Captain rub at the newest lump on his skull and struggled hard to hold onto his last shred of patience. Years of dealing with Shanks had given him a tolerance to stupidity and chaotic randomness that would make angels weep in amazement, but this little stunt might just be the final push that caused him to murder his longtime friend.

"You actually drew blood that time," The pout on the red hair lips vanished as his mood shifted again, a beaming grin lightening Shanks' features, "And you can relax. Tamara's not going to agree to it."

Benn felt a headache coming on again. It had been a regular occurrence since they'd been here, "You don't know that! What if she says yes!? Then what'll you do!?"

"She won't."

"What if she does!?"

"She won't."

"You don't know that!"

"Yes, I do. Benn, trust me on this." Throwing his hand up, he turned away and fought the urge to press his forehead against the wall. Knowing Shanks the way he did, there was no arguing with him when he got some crazed idea stuck in his head. Maybe if he asked in an offhand way, Mihawk might only mildly maim his Captain. That might actually knock a bit of sense into him.

Taking in a breath and praying to every deity he could name, Benn spun back and glared at Shanks, "If you're so damn confident she'll say no, why the hell did you make the offer in the first place?"

Silence was the answer he got, something that was extremely rare when dealing with Shanks. It actually took the grey-haired man a few moments to figure out what his Captain was thinking. An impressive feat, considering Benn's intelligence. A second, more tired glare was sent towards Shanks,

"You've got no right to interfere. Pissing off Mihawk by nosing around his women is not going to end well, Shanks."

The crimson haired male simply shook his head, eyebrows pulling together with a slight pinch, "That's the problem, Benn. She's not his. _Hawk-Eyes_ is letting her sit there, just out of reach. He's not doing anything."

"It's not your business. How he chooses to sort out his relationships is his problem, not yours."

"He's my friend, Benn. No matter what he says. When was the last time you remember seeing him so relaxed?" Benn had no answer to that question and Shanks plowed onwards, "She's good for him. She breaks up the isolation, gives him someone other than _Yoru_ to talk to. Hell, she might even give him a new reason to live, beyond seeing some new rival try to take his title. I'm not just going to sit by and let him waste this opportunity."

Now Benn chose to lean against the nearest wall, gently massaging his temples in frustration, "So your solution to that problem is to extend an invitation that'll take her away from him? How the hell is that helping the situation?"

Shanks grinned in response, "Because she'll tell him about it. There's nothing that spurs a man on faster than thinking he might lose something precious. Even ice-cold _Hawk-Eyes_ isn't immune to that."

"You'd better hope to all the Blues that you're right, Shanks. Cause you'll have a hell of a time explaining that little fact to Tamara if she suddenly gets the urge to set sail. Assuming Mihawk doesn't legitimately kill you for putting the idea in her head in the first place. Or for just sending eyes in her general direction. Besides that, aren't you still pinning over a certain bar maid from the East Blue?"

Benn let a victorious smirk cross his lips when Shanks flushed a little and sputtered in response. Something about Makino being just a friend. At least he'd gotten one over on the red head for the time. Shanks was a romantic at heat, always seeking to put his comrades needs ahead of his own. Hopefully Mihawk would realize that, before he sliced Shanks into bite sized pieces. His Captain may be an idiot, but he wouldn't have him any other way. Headaches and all.

* * *

The spread of food over the table was absolutely massive. Tamara had expressed concern over possible waste, but both Shanks and Benn had assured her that any leftovers would be quickly consumed by their crew when they arrived. Even so, she'd only prepped the feast after Mihawk had given permission for his stores to be used in such a way, despite the pirate Captain's insistence.

He was still smirking internally about that. Shanks may be a charming rake, but Tamara still consulted with him primarily, not swayed by flirtation or flattery. Her loyalty meant a lot to the Shichibukai, it was another notch he had above _Red Hair_.

A loud belch split the air. Mihawk turned his irate gaze to the culprit, even though he knew it would do no good.

"Man Tamara. You sure can put out a banquet. One of the best I've had."

The blond being addressed flushed darkly at the compliment, but continued to clear the table without responding, dodging behind Benn who was assisting her. Once the food was put away, the group would relocate to the lounge. With the _Red Hair Pirate_ crew due to arrive within the next 24 hours, Shanks was loudly insisting on throwing a farewell party.

Not that Shanks needed much of a reason to celebrate at any time. The fact that there were only 4 people didn't dissuade him in the least.

While waiting for Benn and Tamara to join them, Shanks downed a mug of grog. Not to be outdone, Mihawk mimicked him; the dark, fermented ale settling heavy in his system.

"You should come along, Mihawk. How long has it been since you were in the New World?"

Swallowing the last dregs of liquid, he set the glass down before focusing on his adversary, "If I wanted to be in the second half, I'd be there."

The thought of spending extended amounts of time in the New World didn't interest him at all. Moldovien was located there. Mihawk couldn't help but think of his home island whenever he lingered for too long in that section of the Grand Line.

"Then you should at least stop by once and a while for a visit. Especially now that you've got such lovely company to bring with you."

His neck tensed slightly as Mihawk repressed a possessive growl. Fortunately, before Shanks could goad him any further, the two absent members of the castle entered the room. Benn was carrying a very familiar looking bottle and Tamara had a large platter in her hands.

Gold eyes watched with great suspicion as Shanks dragged a low table closer, "Surely you aren't serious? Do you remember what happened the last time we drank this concoction?"

"Don't worry, _Hawk-Eyes_. I'll keep my clothes on this time around."

Tamara's head snapped up and she stared at the red head before looking to him in concern, setting down the tray on the table. Mihawk looked over the bright green lime slices and salt shakers with disdain.

"Should I even ask?" her musical voice questioned as she settled herself next to him.

Benn answered as he started to set up four shot glasses, "It's probably better for your sanity if you don't."

Shanks threw his head back with a roaring laugh and Mihawk rolled his eyes, looking up to the ceiling for a moment. The small glasses were filled with the pungent clear alcohol. Tamara wrinkled her nose a little, glancing over in question.

"Tequila. It's a liquor made from blue agave plants. The drinking technique is...somewhat unique."

Grabbing a shaker and a lime slice, Mihawk lapped the back of his hand, sprinkling the moistened area with salt. Putting the condiment aside, he picked up the nearest shot glass before licking off the white crystals, tipping back the alcohol and biting into the tart fruit.

The combination of bitter salt, burning liquor and acidic citrus was definitely felt all the way down to his stomach, but Mihawk didn't allow himself to show one ounce of weakness. Instead, he looked to Shanks, who had a small pile of salt on the table near him to compensate for his lack of a second arm. The red head dropped a lime peel onto the platter and set down his empty shot glass with a smirk.

"This is so not going to end well..." was the softly murmured response from Benn as he joined in the drinking circle.

As predicted, it didn't end well -at all. Mihawk fought down a wince at Shanks's cracking voice as he belted out another verse of _Bink's Sake_ in a drunken, off tone beat. His vision was fuzzy at the edges and his head felt very heavy, but unlike Tamara, he was still mostly aware of his surroundings.

She'd defiantly put up a good fight, but it had only taken a few shots before the small blond was well and truly plastered. Not that he was complaining much, seeing as she'd decided to use him as her personal pillow. Currently, she was curled against him, head resting on his thigh with hazy eyes fluctuating between being closed in near sleep and watching Shanks weave around the room in some kind of bizarre, flailing armed dance.

Benn was also on the verge of passing out, though he was occasionally joining in with Shank's singing, which made the whole experience that much worst. The bottle of tequila was long since empty, consumed by them. Mihawk saw Shanks take another swig of liquor and never to be outdone by him, copied the act despite his systems protest. His left hand was acting on its own, weaving into Tamara's hair. The golden strands felt like finely woven silk against his skin and he relished the sensation.

Taking his focus off the insane red head for a few moments, he looked down at the female in his lap. Her cheeks were flushed with color from the heavy drinking. A few grains of salt were still present on her pink lips and her breath warmed his skin through his pants. Mihawk swallowed hard, feeling a new heat build in his gut that had nothing to do with the large quantity of alcohol he'd consumed.

"She is _sooo_ cute. I could just eat her up." Looking up, the Warlord sent a cool glare towards Shanks, who belly flopped into the adjacent couch. One hand twitched with a desire to grip something long and sharp, with a razor edge designed to slice flesh.

"I'm quite certain she'd object to that. With considerable force, I might add." A beaming grin filled the Captain's face in response. Shanks was starting to show signs of giving into sleep. But Mihawk still had a few words that needed to be said.

"Your meddling is not appreciated, _Red Hair_."

Shanks stared back with an innocent expression that fooled no one, "I have no idea what you're talking about Mihawk. But you should probably take her to bed. Unless you want me to."

Shooting a death glare at the man, Mhawk shifted his glass aside and slipped arms under the women beside him. Tamara gave a mild, sleepy protest before cuddling into his chest as he stood. Glancing back at Shanks and Benn, both of whom had finally given in and were snoring loudly, he exited the room, heading for the staircase to the upper levels.

As he walked, Tamara shifted in his arms, pressing her face into his shoulder with a soft whispered murmur, "I can walk..."

"That's unlikely, Little Thing. But you can attempt it, if you truly want to." The movement of her soft lips on the skin of his neck was highly distracting. In his inebriated state, it took a lot of concentration not to stumble with her in his arms.

She curled closer, taking in a deep breath, "Mmm...you smell good."

Mihawk's whole body suddenly jolted when he felt a warm, moist wetness on his bare skin. Lust ripped through his blood and he did actually stumble a bit when she licked him again, still speaking softly to herself, "Taste good too...I've been wondering about that for a while."

Breathing in deeply and fighting the urge to pin her against the nearest vertical surface, he shifted her away from his neck, fiercely reminding himself that she was completed intoxicated. In no way, shape or form was he going to take advantage of her in this state, regardless of how she acted. There was no doubt the drug in her system was to blame for her suddenly lowered inhibition.

"You are making it very, _VERY_ difficult to act like a gentleman, Tamara."

"Then don't."

A groan worked its way free from his lungs, despite all his efforts to contain it, " _Dejar, Mi Pequeña_ -you're not going to remember any of this tomorrow and I cannot..."

He'd reached the door to her room and with a bit of maneuvering, managed to open it without jostling her too much. This wasn't made any easier by Tamara, who'd suddenly developed a fascination with the ruffled front of his shirt and was constantly brushing her fingers against his chest.

Mihawk was quite amazed that he managed to get to her bed without tripping.

Setting her down on the soft surface, Mhawk pulled the covers out from under her. As he tucked her under them, she spoke up again, "Do you like me?"

Pausing, he slipped the throw around her legs, "Of course I do."

"Good...I like you too..."

Mihawk watched her snuggle into her pillow before finally drifting off into a deep sleep. From the shadows, Vigil jumped onto the bed and curled up near her hip. For a few moments, he stood over the slumbering female and simply soaked up her image. So innocent and peaceful, one never would have guessed from looking at her that she'd suffered through so much. That she held such an iron will and strong heart.

Tamara's lips parted as she slept and Mihawk didn't even feel himself drop to one knee. His face moved closer to hers, hovering just above the luscious petals, longing to feel their warmth against his own. Gritting his teeth before he completely lost control, Mihawk stood quickly, nearly falling into the bedside table as his still alcohol-soaked brain rolled at the swift movement.

Ascending the staircase to his own room, he opened the door and bodily collapsed onto his bed, fully clothed. Sleep was calling, pressing against his system. Yet he still felt the touch of her tongue on his neck, the ghosting of curious fingers. Mihawk was quite certain he'd be having several interesting dreams tonight. On the wall, _Yoru_ hummed in sympathy, but her support was barely heard by her master.

As his mind started to shut down, senses dulling and muscles relaxing, an ear-piercing scream of sheer terror and panic ripped through the castle. A shriek he'd not heard in months, one that had him leaping to his feet and snatching his massive blade from the wall.

 **"MIHAWK! HELP!"**

* * *

Yes...I know. Another cliffhanger. I will not apologise for it, because I love reading cliffy's and apparently, love writing them as well. Flame me all you want, I can take it.

 **COME AT ME BRO!**

(ducks flying shoes)

And onto other shout outs.

 **Love Stories00: I am so glad your enjoying my fic. I was originally thinking of having Shanks shimmy up to Tamara, but I am too huge a Minako/Shanks fan to do that. Instead, he gets to play devil's advocate, which I hope you enjoyed.**

 **OneWhoReadsTooMuch: Thanks so much for your compliment. I too enjoy a good Mihawk fic and there are far to few in existence.**

 **Stopdropanroll: I agree, Mihawk and Tamara are kinda protective of each other, which I'm glad was portrayed well.**

 **Darla Wolf: Hey Darla, I'm not sure if you fanfiction settings are off, but unfortunately, the last few reviews you've posted have only shown up as a period, so I've been unable to read what I'm certain is a lovely compliment. Even so, just seeing your username on my review board make me smile, but I hope to be able to see your posts, should you choose to leave one again.**

 **BlackDove WhiteDove: Yup...he does, and she likes him back, though Tamara is still far to shy to admit it without liquid courage on board. But that may change in future chapters. XD**

 **Kmbrun: I've never been to a cat café, but I is most definatly on my bucket list. And yes, I did deliberately design Virgil to be the most cutest thing in existence. Glad you love him. XD**

 **Toreh: There are no words I can write to describe the honor and privilege I feel knowing you've stayed with me this long on the story. Toreh, you are just the best.**

 **GingerZnap: If I ever had a stepfather, I'd want him to be just like Shanks. I'm glad I captured him in your image.**

 **Nevermore: Never fear, I shall continue.**


	16. Separated

**Alrighty then, here we go.**

 **First off, I need to absoultly squeal in joy.**

 **OVER 100 REVEIWS, MY GOD! I THINK I'M GOING TO FAINT!**

 **I honestly never expected this fic to gain such popularity and go so far. I have been blown away by the support and words of encouragement. If I could fine a way to hug each one of you, I would do so endlessly. Seriously, you guys are just the best.**

 **With that in mind, I am very much hoping to have chapters flowing in more often. I think I may be able to get one up at least once a month, but I can't promise anything. Currently I am doing a partial renovation on my condo, so thinks are a little hectic. But I will do my damnest.**

 **With that, I must give a massive shout out to my 2 Betas ArisOrion and C.S Skywalker. They are simply too good to me and help to push my writing skills beyound what I ever though myself capable of.**

 **Without further delay, onto the chapter.**

* * *

There was no thought in his actions, only instinct. Mihawk's body was a blur through the darkened hallway as he zoomed down the staircase and threw the door to Tamara's room open with such force that the hinges broken and wood cracked.

It took only moments to scan the area and register the differences.

The window on the far wall was open, the curtains fluttering softly in the wind. On the floor lay Tamara's dagger, the gleaming blade coated in liquid crimson. The covers Mihawk had so carefully arranged were tangled, pillows tossed aside. From the edge of the room, Virgil limped into the light, glancing at Mihawk and giving a pained mew as he stared at the broken window, licking his front paw as if to say Tamara was over there.

Mihawk barely had time to register the overwhelming sense of murderous rage. Any lingerering traces of alcoholic impairment vanished, overpowered and purged by the surging Haki ripping through his system. Only one thought passed through his mind at the sight of the empty room.

 _"Taken."_

He crossed the threshold in an instant -again, no conscious decision pushed his body- foot landing on the windowsill. Then he was airborne, the cold night air nipping at his skin as Mihawk let gravity pull him towards the ground. In his hand, _Yoru_ roared in anger, quivering with desire to taste blood.

It was, in fact, an insult that the unnamed kidnapper decided that he could come and steal Tamara away right from under his nose. Someone was going to die for the offense. For stealing away the maiden of the castle in the dark of night. Around him, the land fell silent, holding its breath and waiting for the fury of the protector to be spent, hoping to still be intact when he was over.

His boots hit the hard dirt with a loud thud. There was no pause to process the shock of the landing -Mihawk was already in motion, sprinting forward. Far in the distance, he could see the golden aura of Tamara. Her energy was low, but stable. She was likely unconscious and moving very, _very_ quickly. That confused him, for even with Haki enhanced speed, no one should be able to run that fast. Furthermore, he couldn't see a second person with Kenbunshoku Haki, only Tamara's familiar light.

Regardless of the mystery, he raced onward. The darkness of Kuraigana enveloped everything, the trees passing in black blurs, and vegetation crushed underfoot, or sliced viciously. He did not slow, did not waver for any obstacle. Nothing would stop him.

Mihawk's brow furrowed. There was a sudden change in the already odd situation. Tamara's yellow shine had suddenly started to move much more slowly. Before he could start to figure out the reasoning behind the decreased speed, something hit him from behind. **BAM!**

Whatever had hit him was moving just as hard and twice as fast as he was pitched forward at an alarming speed. Despite the burning sting on his spine, Mihawk twisted in mid-air, digging his heels into the tree he'd been flying towards and angled _Yoru_ across his front in protection. This let him face the foe that had sprang from the dark, blocking the unexpected follow-up strike with the flat side of his weapon.

Razor fangs belonging to a large, predator feline had both front paws braced on the blade as those same fangs pierced through his shoulder, bypassing his Busoshoku Haki with ease. Mihawk yelled in pain and shock as the feline let him go, and the Shichibukai fell on his knees.

 _"How could it have possibly overpowered my Haki...?!"_ Mihawk thought incredulously as he looked up at the beast. It was tawny in color, with black spots covering its body and two black streaks from its eyes down the side of its face. But the most abnormal feature was that the cat was wearing human clothing -a pair of dark pants to be exact- including a long cloak.

Shoving his sword forward, Mihawk warded off the beast, which didn't fight back much, only jumping backwards to avoid the blow. As it jumped, it twisted in the air only as a cat could, but its body steadily morphing as it did so. Now, where once a four-legged cat had been, was a humanoid male with hybrid feline features. The male was shirtless, but the loose fitting trousers now hugged the his bent backwards legs snugly.

Mihawk quickly pieced together the information before him. The male was a Zoan Devil Fruit user, specifically his animal form was that of a cheetah. The unusual speed of which Tamara had been spirted away made sense now -no other creature on the planet was as swift over land at the quick-footed cat. This kidnapper must have given his charge to another and doubled back to slow him down while they escaped.

His eyes glanced at a wound on the zoan user's arm where fresh blood oozed, his warrior mind recognizing a blade mark easily. Tamara was nothing if not a fighter, even against an enemy such as this.

His opponent did not speak, did not boast of overwhelming power or confidence. No, this man was not a pirate come to make a name for himself. He was swift, tactical and smart. This whole situation reeked of something else, some form of organization on a professional level that rivaled the militarized Navy. The trickles of blood running down the Shichibukai's skin were ignored, but the message was taken very seriously. It was rare for him to be injured in battle, yet this man had wounded him twice, both times quiet severely. He was beyond powerful, on a level that might even be equal to him.

Seeing this man in the flesh now, Mihawk still could now sense his lifeforce, but it was muted and difficult to see, the edges of his aura fuzzy. Somehow, him and his cohorts were shielding themselves from being easily detected by Observation Haki. That in itself spoke massive volumes. Never before had Mihawk come across such a thing.

The male's form blurred, and it was only Mihawk's sharpened vision that saved him from another strike, blocking the powerful blow. He skidded sideways from the force, the vibrations ringing down _Yoru_ speaking volumes of the strength of this man. Fast did not even begin to describe the movement -this assailant was lighting forged into flesh. And he was succeeding in his task. Even now, Mihawk could sense Tamara's aura growing fainter. If he was delayed much longer, she would be out of reach.

Slicing at the cheetah man, Mihawk moved to finish this fight quickly. Before he could follow up his attack, the hybrid was knocked back by another force. A flash of red made him pause and Mihawk looked over Shanks, who stood between them.

He almost didn't recognize the man. His adversary's expression was one he'd not seen in years, a mask of ice with eyes so cold the air itself vibrated from the turbulent energy. _Gryphon_ , Shanks' sword, was drawn -something Mihawk hadn't seen in quite some time. This was a Shanks that made the Navy wary, that made islands bend knees in submission and enemies quiver in terror. Even Mihawk would hesitant to challenge the man in this state.

"Go."

The single syllable word was spoken so low from the Yonko's mouth that he barely heard it. But the fury behind it was well understood. Mihawk spun and raced from the fight without another moment of hesitation, hearing the fading conversation between the two as he ran.

" _Red-Haired Shanks_? You're not supposed to be here."

"I pity to be you," Shanks smirked.

Pushing more Haki though his system, Mihawk bolted towards his lady. All thoughts of Shanks and the cat man vanished. They were no longer his concern. Her aura was heading up one of the curled hills of Kuraigana. He no longer found any action these intruders did strange; this assault was incredibly well planned. The fact that the second person was heading towards a dead end meant nothing.

The vegetation faded as he moved up the steep incline. Mihawk slowed his pace to a walk as he neared his target, every movement screaming of violence and danger. He was a predator of unmatched viciousness and even Gods cringed back in fear.

At the top of the hill was a second man, this one much smaller than the Zoan user facing off against Shanks. He was wearing an identical cowl and turned to face him as Mihawk crested over the top of the hill. Slung over his left shoulder was the still form of his women. Gold eyes quickly surveyed her. She didn't appear injured much, perhaps knocked out from a blow to the head or drugs. In either case, his fury was already at its max.

"Release her, and I will grant you a painless death," Mihawk said coldly.

There was no room for negotiation or argument in his tone, Mihawk's voice was stinging, vibrating with rage and power. The kidnapper had enough intelligence to swallow nervously but did not relinquish his hold on Tamara. The male shifted a bit, moving closer to the hills edge. Mihawk narrowed his gaze as the cloak fell open, showing that he was holding a short cutlass with a hooked tip. The edge gleamed a sickly green color.

" _Leo_ failed to kill you. That's a shame. The task falls to me now." A smirk crossed the man's face, one of confidence and bravado but clearly tinged with terror. "You've no idea of the powers you challenge, Shichibukai."

Mihawk saw the movement in slow motion, snarling out loud even as he sprang forward. The male flung Tamara from his shoulder, throwing her over the cliff. Both men lunged at each other -one attempting to stop, the other trying to save. _Yoru_ deflected the strike and sliced through flesh with ease. He ignored the sting across his own chest, even though it burned far worse than his other injuries. He did not acknowledge the scream of pain from the man, only focused on sprinting for the women's falling body. He lost sight of Tamara's form as she fell down. Feet reached the edge of the hill and Mihawk prepare to leap after her.

As his body tensed for the jump, something large flew up from below, creating a massive gust of wind.

Jerking to a halt, Mihawk stared in shock and wonder. The object looked like some kind of glider. The wings were broad and shaped in a triangle with canvas or cloth stretched over it. A series of crossbeam bars were hooked under it and it gained altitude quickly, soaring up into the sky. Suspended on the bars, he could see a third person who was holding Tamara tightly in one arm and maneuvering the flying device with the other. From this distance, Mihawk couldn't see their face, only the dark cloak covering them.

Shifting, he ready _Yoru_ for a long-distance strike. Almost like his action was sensed, the pilot angled the glider, bearing the underside and shifted Tamara in front of them. Mihawk hesitated. If he was even slightly off with his attack, he could easily kill her. It was clear this flying machine was well controlled, even the most precise slash could be fatal.

A rare and almost alien feeling of helplessness filled him as Mihawk watched the glider move away, flying over the sea. He couldn't stop it, not without risking Tamara's life, which he would not do, even in this situation. His eyes narrowed and hyper focused onto the odd craft as it glided further and further away from him. It was heading east and even now he could see it starting to lose some of its altitude. Far, far in the distance, nearly out of range of his impeccable vision, he could see the tiny speck of what seemed like the blurred outline of a ship.

The glider clearly wasn't meant to remain airborne for long periods of time, but it was still a remarkable device. With it, these people had gained a phenomenal advantage over him. Judging from the headwinds currently swirling around the island, the ship would likely still head eastward, once its payload was delivered. But the distance was vast, even if he raced straight to the docks and sailed with his coffin boat -one of the swiftest boats on the Grand Line- the enemy ship would be long out of range by the time he reached their current location. Plus, the volatile weather of the Grand Line meant the winds could shift in an instant, there was no guessing where they'd go.

Fortunately, he didn't have to.

Slowly turning around, eyes of winter locked onto the fallen male behind him. Stalking forward with the flawless grace of a trained predator, Mihawk loomed above the bleeding man. Without a word or any warning, he lifted his foot and slammed the sole down onto his arm, hearing bones shatter in satisfaction. The subordinate let loose a high pitched, strangled scream, clearly attempting to hide the pain. Mihawk rotated his foot, grounding his weight against the fractured limb, drawing out more shrieks of agony. He soaked up the sound, basking in the sadistic glow before speaking with a voice that made all of Kuraigana shudder.

"Where is she being taken? Speak, wretch."

Harsh gasps from the man was the response. Mihawk let up a small amount of pressure. After a minute of recover, he finally spoke in a wheezing, cracking voice.

"You'll...get nothing...from me...Shichibukai. I die...with honor...for _Zodiac_." A grimace crossed the males face. His tongue rolled against his cheek, mouth opening and Mihawk briefly saw a round, green ball clenched between teeth before he crunched down.

The body on the ground began spasming wildly, muscles twitching, and froth pouring from his mouth. His eyes rolled back, choking gasps ripping from his throat. Then he went still, head lolling to the side. Mihawk stared at the dead man in shock. There'd been no hesitation, no fear in his choice. He'd been trained to commit willing suicide should he be at risk of being taken alive by an enemy. That kind of brainwashing technique wasn't used by the Navy or any pirate crew he knew of. This group of people were something else entirely.

But he couldn't focus on that right now. With this one's death, there was one less lead to locating Tamara, and Shanks wouldn't know that the Zoan user would likely mimic his partner, should the threat of capture loom too close. Spinning away, Mihawk bolted back towards the previous fight.

He arrived just as Shanks pierced _Leo's_ side, knocking him to the ground. Even from the distance he was at, Mihawk saw the man's mouth open. Rushing forward, he lashed out a leg, striking the hybrid's face hard enough to snap his jaw, sending the small poison capsule rolling across the ground.

"None of that now. I need you alive and well, worm." Glancing down, Mihawk saw the man was mostly unconscious from the blow, but still breathing. That was good.

Shanks bent down and picked up the round, jawbreaker pill, rolling it in his finger. There were several shallow cuts over his body, but the Yonko had suffered minimal damage.  
Glancing at his rival, Shanks opened his mouth and spoke with a voice filled with restrained rage and accusation. "You lost her."

There was nothing Mihawk could say in defense. Guilt twinged through his system at the simple statement. She was gone, taken from under his nose with barely a fight. But efficiency of the organization surprised him beyond anything he'd experienced.

"It's fine," Shanks continued, clearly trying to salvage the situation, "We'll track her with her Vivre Card."

Silence met those words and Shanks finally looked at him, disappointment clear in his features, but he said nothing more. Mihawk couldn't met his eyes, knowing already what a fool he'd been. She'd never been out of his reach, never been far from his side. There'd been no need to forge the _Paper of Life_ for her. Now, he soundly cursed his own oversight. Once she was returned, it would be the first thing he would do.

The crunching of undergrowth drew both men's attention. From the dark, Benn appeared in a flurry, sharp eyes assessing the situation. He was holding Virgil in one arm, with his pistol drawn. Upon seeing the knocked-out assassin, he relaxed slightly. From his hold, the black feline squirmed and leapt to the ground, still favor his one paw. Gold eyes looked over the prone form of _Leo_ , and he searched the area briefly, then looked to Mihawk expectantly, as if asking where his mistress was.

Somehow the unblinking stare of the feline cut deeper than Shanks's words. Tamara was taken, and her loyal pet had been injured protecting her. He'd failed them both.

Benn walked over to _Leo_ , eyes scanning his form. Mihawk saw the rifleman reach down and yank on the long cloak, snapping the clasp and pulling the material away. Immediately, _Leo's_ aura flared to life, filling everyone's vision. Benn took a few moments to study the fabric before addressing the Shichibukai.

"Did you piss off _CP-0_ recently, Mihawk?" Benn asked with a confused tone.

The Warlord tilted his head slightly, puzzled. "Not to my knowledge. Why?"

Benn held up the cloak for inspection while speaking. "It's made from Zelbra pelts. It's a rare animal that lived on Rajin Island." Mihawk opened his mouth to comment about the electric-condusive landmass, but Benn held up a hand and continued.

"Yes, I know, let me finish. Inhospitable as the island is, these animals have been able to live there because their fur absorbs natural occurring energy, like lighting. Because of this, the creatures have been hunted to near extinction, due to the fact that the fur can be used to hide and repress humanoid auras. The material is primarily used by _CP-0_. The cost for one of these things is...beyond astronomical, for obvious reasons."

Well, that solved the mystery of why none of them had sensed the intruders.

Shanks spoke suddenly. "Why the hell would _CP-0_ take one of Mihawk's people? The government allows Shichibukai to have subordinates, even protects them. There's no reason for them to be behind this."

"I said the material was primarily used by them, not exclusively. There are others that can get them."

Benn's intelligence was well known, he made a point of knowing things. Without his valuable information, Mihawk would have no idea as to who and what these kidnappers were. Even he could be overshadowed at times.

Benn looked over him and locked onto his chest with a deep frown. "That needs to be treated."

Glancing down, Mihawk looked over the wound given to him by the previous man. The skin was red and puckered, veins of black were running along his skin. In his enraged state, the chronic, fiery, burning pain had been pushed back.

However his determination to find Tamara was more of a priority than himself. He waved off Benn's concern. "I've been poisoned before, it can wait."

"You're no use to anyone dead," Benn grunted. "I'll treat it back at the castle. Soon."

There was no room for argument in the male's tone and Mihawk acknowledge the order with a slightly curled lip. His wound was one thing. Pride could be forsaken this time, he needed more information, "What about a group called _Zodiac_? The other one mentioned it before killing himself."

" _Zodiac_?" Benn asked incredulously. "What the hell have you been doing, Mihawk?"

Now he was starting to get annoyed. "Benn, time is wasting. Tell me what you know."

The first mate handed the cloak to his Captain, shifting closer to the Devil Fruit user, his gun readied in precaution, "I don't know much, mostly rumor and whispers. They're a shadow organization, sort of like _CP-9_. They probably have a lot of members from that side, seeing as they're an assassin's guild. They'll take any assignment, so long as the cost is right. They have no moral compass, no compassion or qualms with mass murder. The only ones the members answer to is those with consultation names. Anything is fair game, as long as they get their due reward. And they're very, very good at what they do."

"Obviously." Sarcasm dripped from Mihawk's tone, but Benn didn't take it personally. "This one is called _Leo_. He would be a higher operative within their ranks?"

Benn nodded. "Definitely. Shanks, Yassop called in. The ships about an hour out."

"Good. Once it's here, we'll head out after Tamara."

Mihawk moved away from _Leo_ , who was slowly starting to regain consciousness, speaking to his old rival. "I will not decline your aid, Shanks. But weren't you the one who claimed he had to do everything possible to prevent a future war between _Whitebeard_ and the Government? Alternating your course now will set you months behind."

"Tamara is my friend, _Hawk-Eyes_! I am not abandoning her!"

The glare sent towards him set the air on fire, but Mihawk could see Shanks was torn between his choices. The red head, for all his childish antics, he was a loyal, trustworthy companion, who would break nations to defend those he called friend. But he was still a Yonko. The responsibilities he'd accepted demanded to be fulfilled as well. Plus, he couldn't be in two places at once.

"You're not forsaking anything, Shanks." Mihawk stood before him and held out his left hand, meeting Shanks enraged gaze without flinching, "You'll trust that I will shoulder this burden... and return her safely."

There was a long hesitation after this statement, where Shanks looked to be prepared to flat out refuse the offer, weighing the decision heavily. Then, he finally reached out and grasped Mihawk's wrist in an iron grip that would have broken a lesser man's bone.

"You bring her back, Dracule," Shanks said seriously. "Alive and safe, or I promise you, I _will_ kill you myself."

It was not an idle threat. Shanks meant ever word. Mihawk inclined his head, not admitting out loud that he also didn't want Shanks to be seen as a hero by Tamara. Even now, he still felt overly possessive of the woman. He would be the one to save her, to bring her back and restore her.

A low groan split the air and Benn drew back the hammer on his gun in warning. _Leo's_ silted cat eyes surveyed the area, causing Virgil to hiss aggressively and Mihawk and Shanks to move closer. There was apprehension on the hybrid face and a stubborn clench in his jaw.

"Morning sunshine. You've got some explainin' to do." Shanks sent a vicious grin towards the man, filled with bloodlust.

 _Leo_ bared his fanged teeth in response. "You won't break me. I'll say nothing."

Mihawk stalked forward, darkness fanning out from him. The air quivered and _Leo_ , for all his show of courage, cringed back as the Shichibukai's hand descended towards him, a voice of death reverberating all around that made the world tremble.

"You will speak, cretin. You **_will_ **speak..."

* * *

The throbbing, pounding headache was the first sensation to assault her. A dramatic, pained groan exited her lips. Tamara kept her eyes firmly closed, struggling to recall previous events over the raging drums thundering through her skull. Hazy memories appeared through the fog.

 _Images of a joyful party, with a silly red head pilling drinks and singing badly. A familiar, spicy scent and a powerful hold, with rimmed golden eyes, dark with some emotion that made her skin burn. The feel of a heavy weight over her body, a pressure across her mouth, preventing a scream. Vigil's flying body, screeching howls, the feel of her blade in her hand...then pain and blackness._

Jerking into full consciousness, Tamara forced her eyes open and bleary looked around. The first thing she saw was thick, iron bars. A rough stone floor was under her, the chill of an unheated room piercing her skin. Shivering in the white dress she'd come to favor, she pushed herself into a sitting position, fingers poking curiously at the side of her face which was surprisingly tender.

Her head spun from it, but she pushed back the sensation. Torches outside the cell lit the area with a dismal glow. Confusion was the first feeling to hit her, followed closely by fear. She didn't know where she was, didn't remember hardly anything that had happened. Where the hell was she?

Forcing herself to stand up, and clenching down on the nausea that rose, Tamara mutter softly to herself while massaging her temples. "I'm never letting Shanks talk me into drinking that stuff again."

" _Red-Hair Shanks_? The Yonko? Well, well, Little Princess, what an interesting life you lead."

The smooth, mocking female voice oozed from the shadows outside the cell. Tamara spun in place, nearly slipping as her bare feet lost traction on the floor and scrambled back from the women standing outside the bars.

"Where am I? What is all this?" Tamara stuttered, disoriented and confused.

A tittering laugh that made her shiver left the women and she sashayed forward with the grace of a coiling snake, opening the door with a silver key and entering. Tamara looked over the black, short bob, toned skin displayed by a tight shirt that showed off her belly and long dark cloak. Every biological alarm and warning Tamara had went off, the hairs on her neck standing on end. This woman was fucking dangerous, and she bloody well knew it.

The mystery women sent a flirtatious smirk towards her, "You may call me _Libra_ , Little Princess. As to your location, it doesn't matter. You won't be here long, its merely a holding cell till your transfer."

"Transfer? To who?"

Libra chuckled again, leaning back against the bars. "Don't you know? I was rather surprised that he agreed to forget the debt I owed him in exchange for capturing you, troublesome as it was. Vice-Admiral Yorinaga's gone through significant effort to obtain you, Little Princess. Care to enlighten me as to why?"

Sheer, blinding terror ripped through her as black memories long buried rose in her mind. Tamara started to tremble and shook her head in denial, whisper to herself, "No... no. He's dead, he died in the storm. It's a lie, he's gone..."

"Dead? Oh no. No-no-no, Little Princess. He's very much alive." The slithering tone amplified the crippling feeling of helplessness building inside her, making Tamara curl more into herself. "You'll be reunited soon enough. Should be quite the interesting family reunion, don't you think?"

Blond hair filled her vison as she shook her head violently, "No...please no. Don't let him take me. Please, anything but that. I'll do whatever you want, just please..."

Her desperate pleas only seemed to amuse _Libra_ , who chortled coldly. "It's only business, Love. Nothing more."

Tamara snapped. Her muscled tensed and she lunged for _Libra_ , determine to fight her way to freedom, no matter the cost. She never even saw the mysterious woman move. One moment she was in front of her, the next Tamara's arm was twisted behind her, jolting pain through her body and the tip of a blade was pressed to her cheek, _Libra's_ chilling voice whispering past her ear,

"I was told simply that you needed to be taken alive, Little Princess, not that you needed to be completely intact. It'd be a terrible sin to destroy a pretty face like yours. Or perhaps I'll take one of your fingernails as a memento. Doesn't that sound like fun?"

The sharp weapon and stinging cleared some of her panic, if only marginally. "Where is Mihawk? What've you done to him?"

" _Hawk-Eyes_? How sweet that you're so worried for him. You needn't be... he's dead."

Tamara's heart stopped beating instantly. Then started again, going a million miles an hour. She shook harder, agony unlike anything she'd ever felt filling every part of her. Her voice trembled as she spoke. "Y-you're lying...I don't believe it...y-you could never..."

"Can't I?" A wet tongue traced the shell of her ear. "I am _Libra_ , Little Princess. You've no idea the powers I have...The Shichibukai is dead...no one is coming for you. The scales have shifted against you. Accept your fate like a good girl. If you try to injure yourself, or anyone under my command, you will regret it."

With those words, Tamara was flung back into the cells corner, head cracking loudly on the wall and slid down to the floor, unable to hold up her own weight with the rampage of emotions running through her. _Libra_ calmly exited the cell, locking it firmly.

As two guards took up position on either side of the bars, _Libra_ turned and smiled like the devil herself. "Don't worry, Little Princess. Everything will be over with soon. I simply can't wait."

The icy laughter of the woman was lost in the dark as she walked away. Tamara pulled her knees to her chest, looking around the cell. There were no items seen, nothing that she could use to cut her wrists or stab her heart. Death was preferred, welcomed even. Rocking back and forth, silent tears streamed from her face, chocking sobs muffled against her legs.

Mihawk was dead. She didn't want to believe, couldn't believe it. And even if he wasn't dead, she knew she was nothing to him. She was a servant, someone he found useful. An alleviation from boredom. He'd said so himself. Mihawk wouldn't come for her. She was alone again, locked away and helpless.

Tamara gave into the despair and lost hope, falling into herself and left the world behind.

* * *

 **So, that's where we end things. With Mihawk going medieval on _Zodiac's_ ass, Shanks trying hard to figure out where he needs to be, Virgil being the fluffy, knight in black fur and Tamara completely breaking down. I really wanted to capture the feelings of rage and despair in the characters in this chapter.**

 **I also needed to make up a few things, as when dealing with Shichibukai and Yonko's and their power levels, you need to cripple them somehow in order to make them more human. Plus, they do get injured and beaten sometimes. As with anyone else in Oda's stories, the leaders and power holders can make mistakes.**

 **I know many of you loved the fluff, but its gonna be a lot of drama and action in the next couple of chapters.**

 **As there were SO many review for the last chapter, I can't do shout outs to everyone. But please note, regardless, every single word is held close to my heart and helps me get out the next chapters.**

 **Spirit of the Blue Jay:** I am so glad your enjoying this fic. I will try very hard to not make you wait too long

 **Nevermorea:** **I'M SORRY!** Actually I'm not, I love cliffy's, even though they make you squirm. XD

 **WhiteyWolf26:** I glad I portrayed Shanks in a way you approve of. And thanks for not throwing the shoe, those things hurt. XD

 **oynxwinter:** Tamara and Mihawk are quiet the pair, that much I will say. And sad to say, its not going to get easier.

 **The Devil Wears Ariadoney:** Welcome to the chaos Ariadoney. Hope you stick around for a bit...we have cookies. XD


	17. Hell Hath No Fury

**Hello again everyone.**

 **Sooo, before I get into anything, first off a little warning. As stated in the last chapter, these next few updates will be a lot of drama. Like...ALOT! Also, I fully expect a TON of screaming from my loyal base at the end of this one. So I need to put in a Disclaimer. Sooo...**

 _ **"I, Angel0y, am not responsible for any noise complaints, flung laptops, broken screens or damaged walls that readers may create by the end of this chapter."**_

 **Though, to be fair, by the end of this, I'll probably have earned a good, back alley beating.** **Again, I'm kinda sorry, but honestly not really, cause I love this story and how its coming together.**

 **Shout out once more to my amazing Betas and my super awesome fans. Couldn't do this without you.**

 **Enough babbling, on with the fic.**

* * *

Being careful to avoid using his hands to open the door, Mihawk strolled into his office. At his feet, Virgil followed closely, silently trotting along on all four feet. His paw had healed well with Benn's medication over the last few days. Since Tamara's kidnapping, the feline had imprinted to him, almost seeming to believe if he lost sight of the Warlord, Mihawk would be taken away too.

He didn't have the heart to shoo the cat away. Besides that, having the black shadow nearby made him feel like his Little Thing was still close by somehow. Benn glanced up from behind the large desk, caught up in his conversation on the _Den Den_ snail, but acknowledged him with a distracted nod. Wandering into the room behind Mihawk, Shanks followed casually, offering his comrade the cloth in his hand as he walked past.

Mihawk accepted the fabric and started wiping away the fresh bloodstains on his fingers as nonchalantly as a baker would dust flour from their palms.

Nothing was said about the metallic scent permeating off their skin or crimson patches coloring their clothes. Mihawk walked closer to his desk, waiting impatiently for Benn to finish his call but managed to resist the urge to fidget, with some difficulty. After the rifleman hung up the mouthpiece, he finally addressed the First Mate with a sharp tone,

"Have you learned anything?"

Benn inhaled a mouthful of smoke from his cigarette, puffing out a plume of blue haze before answering, "These people are good...they're _really_ good. But yeah, I got some information. Called in a few favors."

Standing up, Benn slid aside some loose papers, showing a colored map underneath. The Grand Line wasn't well documented geographically. Even now, new islands were being created and destroyed by weather, natural disasters and Buster Calls. Still, the printed sheet showed a basic idea of common locations known to the Navy. Four islands had markers placed on them. Benn pointed to each one as he spoke,

"These are the landmasses my contacts say have rumors of unexplained deaths and possible sightings of _Zodiac_ members. Keep in mind, none of this info is concrete. This group is too damned skilled to leave a ton of witnesses behind. Anything look familiar?"

Glancing over the marked spots with hard eyes, Mihawk pointed to one island, "Here... _Leo_ spoke of this place, between screams."

As enjoyable as extracting information from the Zoan user had been -which had also been a convenient outlet for his raging temper, stoked to a low simmer for the time- Mihawk wasn't one to blindly believe anything he said without some other form of evidence to back up the claims. After all, people would say anything under torture to make the pain stop.

Shifting a glance at Shanks, the Shichibukai was reminded of why it was best to stay on the Yonko's better side most of the time. He'd learned a few new techniques from the red head during this escapade.

The delay in perusing after Tamara was necessary, aggravating as it had been. Wherever _Zodiac_ was taking the young women would still take time, which was the only reason they weren't currently on the ocean. Plus, _Leo_ had put up a fair amount of resistance...for a time. Mihawk thought he might have had few suspicions about the face behind this assault. But again, nothing solid to work with had come up. _Leo_ had known nothing of who was paying his fare or who'd ordered the attack, only stating that he owed a favor to one call _Libra_.

Another operative, another obstacle in his way. It mattered not; they would fall all the same.

Shanks looked over the map, tracing a path with one finger, "We can alter our course this way slightly. It'll give you a push in speed towards that location. The ' _Red Force'_ is still one of the fastest ships on the waters, she'll cut down your time."

The Yonko was still very much torn over his choices. It was unnatural for Shanks to not act when one of his comrades was in danger. Mihawk wouldn't be surprised if he changed his mind partway through the trip. In the end, it would likely be Benn's wisdom that made the final decision.

Speaking of Benn, the grey-haired man handed a Navy report to him, "I ran across this while working, thought you might know something."

Gold eyes scanned over the words and Mihawk's eyebrows pinched together in confusion. Redemption had been attacked by unknown pirates, specifically Ariedale City was completely obliterated. There were very few survivor's and those that had been found couldn't name a Jolly Roger to go with the heathens that had done the slaughter. The report was written by one Vice-Admiral Yorinaga. Mihawk didn't recognize the name.

There didn't appear to be any real connection between the attack and what had happened to Tamara, save that both Mihawk and her had been on the island roughly four months ago. Still, a nagging in the back of his mind couldn't quite dismiss the report as simple pirate-based violence. He set the paper aside, storing the information in mind for later.

Shanks curiously picked up the report, reading over it while speaking, "What do you intend to do with Cheetah Boy?" He glanced up and smirked sadistically, "I'll take him off your hands, if you want."

Evidently, Mihawk wasn't the only one to hold a grudge to an extreme level. Shaking his head, the Warlord unsheathed _Kogatana_ to clean the small blade before he departed. The palm sized sword was still purring, soaking up the life fluid coating his surface. The crucifix weapon was always eager to cut through flesh, combat or otherwise.

"He can stay where he is. If he's still alive when I get back, I'll deal with him then. Are you ready to depart?"

"Just waiting on you, _Hawk-Eyes_."

From the floor, Virgil seemed to sense the change and reared up, pressing his front paws against Mihawk's leg and mewing insistently. Replacing his small weapon and looking down at the wide eyes of the cat, he bent low, scooping up the feline to let him walk behind his head. The talented animal found a comfortable balance between his shoulders and _Yoru's_ wide cross guard. His partner hummed softly in approval.

Virgil was invested in this as much as Mihawk was, leaving him behind seemed too cruel. Besides that, Tamara would worry needlessly if her pet wasn't around when she was rescued.

Leaving his castle behind, with Benn and Shanks flanking him, the trio started to head for the large ship moored off shore. Shanks's crew had already tied his Coffin Boat to the stern and were nearly prepared for departure. Walking up the gangplank and onto the deck, Mihawk left Shanks to command his vessel, moving to the bow. A good chunk cast wary and fearful looks towards him, but none dared speak to him. As the ' _Red Force'_ set sail, Mihawk murmured out loud softly, hoping Tamara would somehow hear it.

"Wait for me, _Mi Pequeña_. I am coming..."

* * *

In a different part of the Grand Line, a much more menacing male was in a very different mindset than the distance Shichibukai. Zachariah Winters, Captain of the _Winter Pirates_ , mused in his quarters.

He was a tall man, intimidating to almost all with broad shoulders, muscled arms and shaggy dark brown hair. All this was accented by frigid ice blue eyes, a testimony to his North Blue linage. Winters had never been a kind man, having grown up in the harshest of the Blue Seas. Though, even if he had been raised in one of the weaker seas, he'd likely have turned out the same way, seeing that as a child, his favorite pastime had been torturing small animals.

It came as no surprise to him that he'd ended up a pirate. After all, there was no better way to cause suffering and terror than by flying the skull and crossbones. He'd chosen his crew based on his own sadistic tendencies, each member reveled in delight at causing mayhem and carnage, some far worse than him in certain aspects.

Being as he captained such a violent group, one would think the Navy would have their faces plastered everywhere. But Winters had come upon some very fortunate luck early in his pirate career. Which he was currently trying to decide if maintaining the status quo was worth the reward in the long run.

"Having second thoughts, Zachariah?"

Sliding his gaze over to the other presences in his personal chamber, Winters surveyed the Marine. He'd known Yorinaga since the man had been a Captain, climbing the Navy ranks in leaps and bounds for reasons he still did not fully revealed. It was this partnership, spanning several years, that had allowed Winters to wreak such havoc and not have the Navy hunting him down at every turn. There were pluses and minuses to the alliance. This was far from the first time he'd questioned whether it was worth the effort.

Winters wasn't sure how Yorinaga managed to keep their workings from affecting his position and had never really asked. The Navy was as corrupt as anything else in the world, but this man had a scary talent for manipulation.

"Somewhat...you haven't exactly been forthcoming, Vice-Admiral. You know I prefer a little more information when executing any mission."

A chilling smirk flitted across the blond man's lips as he sipped delicately at the flute of white wine he held, seemingly not overly perturbed by Winters cross tone. Yori had been in a delightfully good mood since being contacted by _Libra_ , even though she'd made it clear there were still things to be discussed. Winters shivered as the thought of the _Zodiac_ operative flitted through his mind. She was one terrifying women, he would much sooner die than face her again. But the decision wasn't his to make.

Swallowing, the marine answered smoothly, "You've trusted my judgement in the past, Winters. Often without question."

"I didn't have the risk of having a fucking Warlord decapitate me in the past."

"Come now, we both know what _Libra_ is capable of. _Hawk-Eyes_ is dealt with. All that is needed now is to pick up our cargo. You enjoyed the journey last time, if I recall. Everything is coming together, Winters. Believe me, it won't be long now."

Yori's eyes faded into a glazed state, an expression of restrained glee lighting his face. Winters heard him murmur something, but it was too soft for him to overhear. Even with the Vice-Admiral's assurance, his instincts were humming in warning. Something wasn't right, things were not as calm and collected as Yorinaga believed. The man was an arrogant prick at the core, he could be easily blinded by his own reflection. But the fear of what the man could do, how he could screw up his life, send Navy soldiers and imprison him for endless bouts of torture kept Winters from stepping out of line. For the time being, anyway.

The ship sailed onward steadily, currently flying the seagull flag of the Navy.

* * *

Blackgrave Island fully lived up its name and reputation. It was somewhat surprising to him that the Government hadn't ordered the landmass rendered into ashes, given the rampant amount of crime, violence and piracy living on its shores.

Every single living being seemed to be instinctively bred to spread mayhem and prove themselves stronger and meaner than the last. Even the weather around the island reflected this, the gloomy clouds and chronic dim light making Kuraigana look almost cheerful. He hadn't even been in the island's main port town for 5 minutes when a child no older than seven attempted to steal his wallet. That was impressive enough, given his current state was making the air crackle and his overall visage in general. What was more indicative of the attitude of the locals was that the child didn't flee when Mihawk had grabbed his wrist, rather the boy had drawn a dagger and attempted to kill him.

Even as enraged as he was over Tamara's kidnapping, he wasn't a child murderer. Mihawk had left the boy clutching three large lumps on his head in a darkened alley.

Though one good thing had come out of the unexpected event. The young boy was knowledgeable, directing the Shichibukai to the nearest _'Hole in the Wall'_ bar. Which was actually a compliment, once he'd seen the ransacked building. Mihawk was certain there were sewer systems cleaner that this supposed drinking establishment.

Throwing his current victim through the air, the body fracturing a table into splinters as it landed, Mihawk causally leaned back and let a swigging fist breeze by his face. He wasn't really surprised that his entrance had immediately caused every patron to look up and most to lunge at him with violent or greedy intent, but it was still a bothersome affair. Surprisingly, Virgil was easily adapting to his movements, shifting his weight and digging in his claws so he didn't fall off his shoulders. Though if the fighting got more intense, he suspected the feline would need to evacuate his current perch.

Driving a knee upward into the gut of the man that had dared to attempt to strike him, causing him to crumple to the ground, Mihawk calmly stepped over the body, catching a thrown blade that had been aimed at his face between two fingers with terrifying ease. A flick of his wrist returned the knife to its sender, the pained, strangled scream fading to a low gargle as the bar fight started to die down. Most had come to realize he wasn't an easily defeated target for them to rob or expend pent up frustration on. The majority of people still conscious or alive were scrambling wildly for any available exit.

Out of sheer spite, Mihawk backhanded one man that passed too close in his flight to escape, sending him rocketing through the far wall. Comically, the man's body was caught halfway out, leaving his lower half still stuck inside the building, legs weakly kicking in an attempt to wriggle out.

Making his way to the bar at the back of the room, Mihawk pulled out a stool and sat down. Behind the long table counter, the bartender -likely the owner as well- calmly walked over. During the entire fight, despite the heavy damage, dead bodies, flying bullets and swigging weapons, the greasy haired male had stayed in place, calmly cleaning glassware and observing the fiasco with the same attitude a noble man watched over a theater performance.

"You're not from around here."

On his shoulders, Virgil rumbled low in his chest in disapproval, clearly disliking the sleazy server, but Mihawk ignored the warning. The feline was remarkable clever.

"I doubt very much that anyone remains here long."

An offhand shrug was the response, though Mihawk noted the bartender shifted his hand lower, brushing against a loaded pistol in his belt. This island did not tolerate weakness, that was certainly a fact.

"What'da want?"

Mihawk tilted his head slightly, reaching into his coat and withdrawing a palm sized sack. Dropping it on the counter, the top opened to show a dozen glittering blood rubies, each one easily worth a small house in value, he replied, "Something strong to drink."

The bartender didn't even blink at the bribe, flipping over a clean mug and filling it with a dark ale that burned the nose. Mihawk swallowed the alcohol in a few gulps, not wincing at the acidic burn of the poorly made liquor, though the horrible bitter aftertaste was something he could have done without. When he lowered the glass, the bag of gems was gone and his drink was refilled.

Taking more time to finish the second glass, he spoke out loud in a voice one might use when inquiring about the weather outside, "I'm on a hunt, for one called _Libra_."

A sharp intake of breath came from the stoic male. Glancing at him, Mihawk saw him quiver slightly, an expression of fear creeping across his face before he quickly turned away.

"Can't help you there."

Now that was interesting. The man hadn't batted an eye while his establishment was under siege, but the mere whisper of _Libra_ set him nearly fleeing. Mihawk filed away that knowledge, but hardened his namesake eyes on the male in a glare that could shatter mountains. The bartender flinched from the look, now focused entirely on the Warlord with more than a fair dose of fear.

"You will want to consider you position very carefully, sir. I'm not in a mood to play games."

To his credit, the bar owner did pause and think for a long while before responding, weighing the options. Leaning in closer, his voice lowered to a murmur, almost like he was terrified of being overheard,

"Whatever you're after, I'll tell you right now, it's not worth going against that thing. Best thing you can do is forget you heard that name and walk away."

Mihawk was not a man easily daunted, fear was not something he allowed himself to feel. Even so, the hushed tone filled with quivering terror did make him uneasy. _Leo_ had also been frightened of this _Libra_ operative, deeply so. Clearly, they were not someone to be underestimated. Dipping again into his coat, the Shichibukai dropped three more rubies to the counter. The loss to his stores was trivial, finding Tamara was more precious than any glittering treasure.

"My affairs and how I conduct them are my own concerns."

Greedy eyes looked over the priceless jewels before reaching out and snatching them up. A sneer traced over the bartender's lips as he spoke, "Suit yourself pal, it's your funeral. Don't say I didn't warn you. There's some quiet chatter about a building on the north side of the island, about a mile inland. If you've got such a raging death wish rolling around in your blood, that'd be where I'd start."

After the words left the man's mouth, he shifted uncomfortably, glancing around in fear, "You didn't hear that from me."

"Naturally."

It was unspoken and necessary agreement when extracting information in this manner. There was always a risk that the facts given were false, but such things needed to be done. Chances were good with the money the man now had, that he wouldn't be on the island much longer. Permeant residences in a place like this were exceedingly rare.

Finishing his drink, Mihawk rose without another word and left the building. The bar fight had only served to wet his appetite, heating his blood and feeding his still burning anger. As he walked through the dank, blood-soaked streets heading north, even the locals backed away, sensing the turbulent violent aura steadily growing broader around him. Soon, the world was going to quiver and those who'd crossed him would know the true meaning of fear.

* * *

With arms folded primly behind her _Libra_ stood stoically in front of the window, looking out into the darkened night gloom. This current location wouldn't be occupied much longer. Even with the best efforts made, there was always someone, somewhere that would whisper about _Zodiac's_ presence, no matter how much fear, money or death they left behind. Moving around constantly was the only way to ensure their business remained as lucrative as it was.

She was one of the most successful agents in the organization, each member commanding their own small cluster of followers and basically doing whatever they wanted with them. There were times of co-operation between different members, but no head boss commanded any of them as a whole. That was part of the reason _Zodiac_ could function as it did. Without a steadfast leader to hold them together, each star-named member was responsible for gaining their own foothold and maintaining it. It was a cut throat, vicious lifestyle that the middle-aged women excelled at.

Currently, she was deeply contemplating her choices. Risks were something she dealt with every second of her life. There was no doubt in her mind that her death would happen at the hands of one of her own agents, someone skilled enough to slice her throat and take the position she currently held. That was fine with her, a death without meaning was nothing. But she was always one to weigh both sides of the equation, making sure the scales of balance for which she took her name from would fall in her favor, regardless of what actions occurred from her missions.

As she poised motionlessly, distant screams from below reached up to her ears, the sounds of battle and bloodshed beginning a sweet symphony. A massive metallic _TWANG_ reverberated through the air and a section of the east side of the building collapsed into rumble, a brilliant display of light illuminating the area. _Libra_ didn't blink at the destruction, didn't twitch a single muscle in her face

It would be substantial loss to her followers, but she could replace the majority of them easily enough. There were always those wanting to follow someone stronger, someone they thought could protect them in a world as dark and corrupt as theirs. In any case, she needed to take action. The Shichibukai's assault was not wholly unexpected, but still surprising.

Leaving the room, _Libra_ patiently descended to the lower levels, the sounds of battle fading to a distance murmur. As she stood before the holding cell, a smile that froze the blood graced her lips. This would be an enjoyable event indeed.

* * *

The complex wasn't really overly fancy, but it did have a crudely made stone wall surrounding it. Not a large obstacle, but one that was likely manned by guards. Not that any would spot him at this distance, Mihawk's incredible vision for which he was named for let him scan his target far outside any range of watchful eyes.

He could see several aura's moving around inside the compound, numbering around three dozen. None of the life forces he saw matched Tamara's saffron glow, but that didn't mean much. Seeing as _Zodiac_ had access to the Zelbra cloaks, he couldn't fully trust his Kenbunshoku Haki senses. There could very well be more people within the facility. A physical investigation of the site would have to be done.

Reaching back, Mihawk unsheathed _Yoru_ , feeling the blade quiver in anticipation. Bending his knees, he lowered one shoulder.

"Virgil, down"

A weight left his pads as the feline obediently jumped to the ground. Rising to his full height again, he started to walk forward. Movement at his feet made the Warlord pause. Gold silted eyes looked up at him, blinking owlishly. Mihawk shook his head, his voice growing slightly firmer,

"No, you need to remain here. I'll not have you injured in the crossfire."

Virgil yowled in protest, rearing up and pressing his paws against Mihawk's leg. He was not moved, "Virgil, stay. I'll return soon."

When he walked away for the second time, there was no padding of feet beside him. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw the small cat take a few steps after him, before obeying and staying in place, fading into the shadows as distance grew between them. Leaving the loyal pet felt wrong, but Tamara would never forgive him if he deliberately brought Virgil into harm's way. If _Libra_ was truly as dangerous as he believed, Mihawk needed all of his focus. Trying to protect the feline, regardless of how clever and quick he was, simply wasn't something he could risk.

The first attack came about a quarter mile before he reached the base. The subordinates of _Libra_ were skilled though. Deflecting the bullet that had been aimed for his head with _Yoru's_ blade, he noted that the trajectory had been spot on. Blurring forward towards the shooter, Mihawk was impressed that the man managed to block the first strike of his sword with his own, drawn quickly once he realized the ball of lead had failed to kill.

Despite his skill, the second swing of _Yoru_ dropped him with a pained scream.

As expected, the sound of the fight drew more bodies. Mihawk didn't bother with subtly or stealth, he was here to bring home his women and punish those that had taken her. Walking straight through the compound's courtyard, he shifted around attacks, twisted and danced with an elegance born of experience and sheer, unbridled talent. Behind him, his trademark coat tails caught the wind and made him look like a living shadow, a hungry specter come to feed on the souls of the living.

Waltzing through a door, Mihawk walked the hallways with a calm, emotionless exterior, thoroughly searching each room. Thus far, he'd not come across anyone wearing a Zelbra pelt, which lead him to believe _Libra_ was still holding out. Perhaps the agent was waiting to see if the chaff of the base would actually succeed in harming him or was simply biding his time. In any case, he needed to keep searching.

A massive bull of a man appeared as he stepped back outside, the huge form blotting out what little moonlight pierced through the clouded skies and dense canopy. Mihawk was unable to resist the urge to lift an eyebrow in distaste. The unwashed smell of the hulking beast was truly stomach churning.

"Who you? You no belong here."

Mihawk was honestly surprised the creature before him was capable of speech, caveman-like as it was. He wondered briefly if the man was a giant hybrid, he was certainly large enough, with a face that looked to be carved by a child from an overly ripe potato. Tilting his head back, Mihawk responded with a frost covered voice,

"Tell me where the girl is and I'll be on my way. There needn't be anymore losses to this base."

Lips pulled away from teeth that were too sharp to be fully human and the meat sack before him chuckled darkly, "You die now, puny thing."

A towering fist loomed above and rocketed down towards him. Mihawk remained calmly in place, not offering to dodge the attack until it touched the plume of his hat in a feather light caress.

The shriek of metal and Haki was so loud even his hearing ached a little, and he was well accustomed to _Yoru's_ battle screams. White-green light blinded the area, sending splinters of wood, split stone and fractured trees to the ground. The section of building he'd previously searched exploded into ruin like loose grass in a typhoon. As the attack faded away, letting the dark of night cloak the area again, Mihawk's footsteps echoed in the air, leaving behind a scene of devastation, curling smoke and the dismembered remains of a once impressive being.

He turned his weapon slightly, looking down at the reflective black blade with a slightly smirk, "Feeling vindictive?"

 _Yoru_ vibrated in his hand, growling low. Mihawk hadn't seen his partner unleash such power in some time. Evidently, she was channeling his anger as well as her own, a combination of such deadly malice that it had cowed the Navy pleading for him to accept his current position of Shichibukai.

Entering into a different part of the compound, Mihawk looked down at his feet. The building here was better build, hosting a stone floor instead of wood. Sturdier construction generally housed the more competent members of a group, the riffraffs and acolytes stayed in the slums. Feeling more confident that he would locate his charge in this section, he continued his mission. He didn't meet any further resistance as he searched. That in itself was odd, he'd have thought by now he'd have met up with the so-called leader.

Turning a corner, Mihawk paused at the sight of a thick iron door. It was partial cracked open and he nudged it wider. A set of stairs lead downward into darkness. Snarling softly to himself, he began to descend. Tamara hated the dark. _Zodiac_ would pay dearly for locking her away from the light. The lower levels were dank and cold, reminding him briefly of his own prisoner rotting in the dungeons of his own castle. It reeked of dampness, mold and old blood. As he moved, a whisper sounded in his ears like a lingering ghost.

 _...Mihawk..._

He paused in mid stride, momentarily believing he'd imagined the voice. It had sounded identical to Tamara's. But it had seemed almost like it came from inside his own mind. Pushing aside the unease that was growing with every step forward, he tightened his grip on _Yoru's_ hilt. Something was wrong. Very, _very_ wrong. Ahead, almost unseen in the gloom, Mihawk spotted something that made his chest clench tightly. Increasing his pace, he jolted to a sudden stop in front of the barred room, eyes going wide.

"No..."

Shoving the open cell door wider, he stumbled inside, dropping to his knees. _Yoru_ slipped from his hand and clattered to the floor as he reached out, fingers shaking and desperately trying to deny the sight before him as his heart stuttered erratically.

Spread out on the floor was Tamara's small body, surrounded by an ocean of crimson, hair stained red from the liquid, translucence skin whiter than fresh fallen snow and sapphire eyes glazed over in death.

* * *

 **Commence with the screams, I am prepared for the noise. Sort of...XD**

 **It was also mentioned in the last chapter by a reader that there was already a Cheetah Devil Fruit user on Foxy's crew. As stated before, I am sticking to cannon events so those characters with Devil Fruits who are cannon will remain, but other devil fruits not cannon may appear. Keep in mind with the sheer number of devil fruits out there, some may get repeated if they only appeared once or twice. Honestly keeping track of them all is exhausting. Plus, I never really liked the Davy Back Fight arc much, it always felt really childish to me. So I don't care that I sniped one of their devil fruit users.**

 **Plus...this is fiction, so...Meh.**

 **Working on shout outs, because I like giving props where props are due.**

 **Spirit of the Blue Jay: You always make me happy to see your review Blue Jay, so glad your sticking with me. Thanks so much for the support**

 **Nevermorea: PLEASE DON'T DIE, I LOVE YOU NEVER! IT'S GONNA GET WORST, PLEASE STAY!**

 **diegokpo30: Glad you approve of how I'm writing up Mihawk and Shanks. Hopefully I still do a good job in the future chapters.**

 **oynxwinter: It is weird how the site works sometimes, but no worries, I got you lovely review. And I can't promise Tamara won't be shifted from this experience, but whether its a positive or negative way is to be reveled later on.**

 **BlackDove WhiteDove: Lots of drama now, which is only going to get worst. And this is supposed to be a primary Mihawk story, so that's part of why Shanks is being left behind. I hope I gave a good enough reason for most fans to believe. **

**OneWhoReadsTooMuch: Oh...you have NO idea of the massive damage about to hit the world. Be afraid...be VERY afraid.**

 **TheComprehensiveJellyfish: I was starting to wonder where you'd gone Jelly. But so happy to see your reviews back. I guess it makes sense, letting chapters build up in a story you like, but I always read the updates as soon as they're out. Can't help it, I needs to know whats happening. Stay with me, this is gonna get good.**

 **Desirae668: Air hugs back from Canada, we locals gotta stick close. Don't worry about poor Virgil, he's an adorable fluffball, but he's a tough one, just like his mistress.**

 **mezzieb1: Yes, I know I'm mean...and I'm gonna get meaner. Sorry...please don't kill me. XD**

 **Allykrau: Sorry Ally. But its very gratifying to know that I'm writing well enough to affect you like that. Hopefully I can keep you from going into heart failure.**

 **Scarlet Silvers: Welcome Silvers. Glad to have you on the board. Thanks so much for your beautiful review, I'm so glad I am able to make Mihawk and Tamara into such an enjoyable pair. Stick with me, this is gonna get intense. **

**itszyaa:** **Heya itszyaa. Unfortunately, this is a story in the making and not completed yet, so to read more, you have to stick with me for the updates. Glad your enjoying it though and thanks for the review.**

 **431101134:** **I'ma gonna call you _'Numbers'_ cause your usernames kinda crazy. Cool, but crazy. Love it. And I think I like Tihawk the best, rolls off the tongue nicely. Glad to have you aboard, stick around for more updates. **


	18. Master of the Scales

_***Carefully peeks around corner, checking for flying shoes or other painful projectiles***_

 **No airborne objects seen? Good.**

 **Hello again everyone. I hope I didn't upset too many people. I heard the screams the moment I posted the last chapter. I won't apologise, as I love how the chapter came together. But never fear, things are getting better...sort of.**

 **I truly enjoyed writing up this chapter, it came together so nicely, I am very pleased with it. I'll write up a bit of a longer authors notes at the end, as there are things I wanna say, but I don't wanna spoil things.**

 **So, once again, please enjoy.**

* * *

Her skin was cold to the touch. Mihawk frantically palpated her neck, feeling for a pulse, the barest of fluttering to show she still had life flowing through her. There was nothing, no movement beneath his fingers.

"No..."

His arms slide under her body, pulling her to his chest as the jagged whisper left his mouth. Agony ripped through him, pain like no wound could ever cause clenching around his heart, making him tremble.

"You can't...not like this...you can't leave me alone again..."

The blood was still warm and stuck to his skin, soaking through his coat. It was ignored as he hugged Tamara tightly, cradling her head and pressing his face to her hair, deeply inhaling the dark scent of smoked sandalwood and worn leather. Even in his distressed state of mind Mihawk's natural instincts flared to life, wildly screaming in warning, making him jerk away from the still form he clutched.

His response was a fraction too late.

White-hot piercing pain ripped through his system like a raging wildfire. He coughed violently, feeling blood drip from his mouth. Though the blinding torture, he focused on the body pressed against him. Shock hit him like a runaway train as black eyes of onyx looked back up at him, a sadistic smile of pleasure curling on Tamara's lips.

A dagger was shoved deep into his chest, the hilt held tightly by the replica curled on his lap. Mihawk's hand weakly reached out for _Yoru_ , who was screaming in rage on the floor. The being poising as his blond lady grasped his arm in an iron grip, shifting to stradle his knees and clucked her tongue in scolding,

"No-no, none of that, little Hawk. I'm enjoying this far too much to let it end that quickly."

It was Tamara's voice that spoke to him, but the tone was mocking and harsh, completely unnatural for her. He gripped the imposters wrist that held the knife, but the blade in his body was twisted slightly and Mihawk couldn't hold in the cry of agony, his hold failing as weakness started to overtake him. Blood poured from the wound and the now moving body pressed closer to him, a pink tongue darting out to lap at the drops of crimson on his lips.

"Yes..." the female moaned out in ecstasy, "Just like that...scream for me..."

 _Wrong_...it was all wrong. This wasn't Tamara, his Little Thing would never, ever be capable of such cruelty. He was dying at the hand of this women, falling into darkness. He'd never see her again, never hear her laughter or watch her blue eyes twinkle in delight at one of his tale, feel the brush of her soft skin or the whisper of her soft tone. His vision was getting blurry, his heartbeat thundering in his ears...

 _...Mihawk-san...I trust you..._

The whisper from before penetrated the fog hazing over his mind; crisp, clear and strong, driving away the overpowering weakness consuming his body. His eyes snapped open, hand flying to his chest, unsheathing _Kogatana_ in one smooth movement and lashing out at the assassin pressed intimately against him.

A startled cry left the women as she jerked away, releasing her hold on him and ripping out the blade from his body as she rolled over the floor, landing in a predator crouch. As Mihawk looked over the unnatural sight of Tamara, the image before him cracked and shattered like a breaking mirror, fragments vanishing in the air leaving behind a fit, tanned skin women with short black hair wearing a Zelbra cloak. There was a shallow cut across her chest that lead up to her cheek and oozed blood.

Clutching the bleeding wound on his chest with his palm, holding _Kogatana_ between fingers, Mihawk quickly snatched up _Yoru_ , stumbling to his feet and struggling to push back the pain ripping through his body. He barley managed to raise his massive weapon up to deflect the dagger thrown at his eye socket. Panting hard, he sent a harsh glare towards the women,

"You are the one they call _Libra_ , I presume?"

She chuckled darkly, muscles coiling as she rose to her full height, unsheathing twin Kris blades from her waist, the wavy edges glinting sharply, "You are impressive, Shichibukai. Even more so than I'd have thought. Still a man though, easy to manipulate. You should know better than anyone not to grow attached to something. It make you weak and vulnerable."

Still struggling to keep his head, Mihawk snarled back, "How are you doing this? Deceiving my senses so thoroughly? Do you have a Devil Fruit power?"

"But of course, little Hawk. I've eaten the _Genso-Genso no Mi_." _Libra_ ran a finger over her lips as she spoke, dragging a few drops of her own blood to her mouth, lapping up the metallic tang, "Ensnaring the senses, creating images so realistic the mind is deceived into believing everything I create is true. Even you believed it."

"The _Illusion-Illusion Fruit_. A power capable of allow you to make anyone see and feel anything you want them too. Truly your power is terrifying, Madam. You live up to your reputation."

Mihawk was feeling some of his strength start to return, but he was still severely handicapped. He needed to delay for a bit longer, give his body some time to recover. Haki was surging through his blood, sheer force of will keeping him conscious. Quick reaction time had saved him from being impaled in the heart, but the wound was still crippling. He was pretty sure he'd been poisoned again as well.

Unfortunately, _Libra_ wasn't going to be so accommodating, as she chuckled darkly, "Terror, little Hawk? You haven't known true terror yet. Let me show you the way."

He whipped up his sword, Haki arching from the blade. But too late to stop _Libra_ , who threw her arms wide, loosing a maniacal laugh. The world around him shattered again. Then he was falling, tumbling through the air as gravity ripped at him. The sensation was so realistic, he could tell which way was up or down.

Then he landed, the impact knocking the wind from him. The first sensation to hit was the icy, bone chilling cold. All around him was a snow covered wasteland. Shoving himself to his feet, Mihawk looked for his foe. He was on a mountain top, with wild, fridge wind slicing straight through him. A swirling blizzard blocked out the sun, turning everything hazy. All he could hear was his own heartbeat, the scream of the air around him. His breath puffed out in a white cloud, shivers wracked his frame as his body struggled to keep warm.

It was so real. The cold, the wet sensation of frozen water, the smell of winter. Everything was perfect in spectrum, even though Mihawk knew it to only be an illusion. His senses refused to believe what his mind knew, he couldn't force himself to see past it.

The negative degree weather made every movement ache, parts of his limbs were going numb. As Mihawk trudged forward through the hip deep snow, the ground in front of him exploded upwards. A monstrous roar that vibrated his bones split the air and he craned his head back to look upon the skyscraper high beast. Yeti like in appearance with wicked claws easily as long as his entire frame. A mouth that could swallow an ocean opened and howled out a challenge as a house sized hand thundered towards him.

Standing in place wasn't an option. Even knowing it wasn't real, Mihawk couldn't risk that _Libra_ herself was poising as this monster and preparing wound him deeper. Leaping backwards, his actions stifled by the heavy snow and razing winds, he slashed _Yoru_ at the beast.

Except his faithful weapon wasn't in his hand.

Startled by the empty sensation, Mihawk didn't fully dodge the strike, the paw slamming into his side and sending him flying. The impact shattered the ribs on his left side, the stabbing spears of agony making his spine arch and a scream left his mouth against his will.

The pain felt so real, so lifelike. _Libra_ was incredible, her powers beyond imagining. But as he crashed to the ground, Mihawk noted something odd. His right hand that had been holding _Yoru_ was still clenched tight and the hollow feeling wasn't quite right. He felt off balance.

Stumbling to his feet again, Mihawk bolted away from the earth shaking footfalls that chased after him. Distance was needed, he had to buy time. Even as he ran, he analyzed his own senses. The stabbing pain from his ribs was less now. He'd never suffered from broken bones in the past, having always been too skilled to have such an injury inflicted. But somehow, Mihawk believed it should hurt more. Then there was the odd shifting weight on his right side.

Jumping to the side as the monster smashed another fist into the ground, shattering frozen tundra, Mihawk lifted his arm to shield his face from the flying debris. The cold was still soul piercing, the wind a razor on his skin. But it wasn't as crisp a sensation as before, it had faded slightly.

 _Libra_ seemed to be able to mimic sensations and feeling she'd personally experienced, but not fully replicate ones she hadn't. She hadn't been able to cover up her own natural scent when poising as Tamara because she didn't know what his Little Thing smelled like. She couldn't fully make him believe he wasn't holding _Yoru_ because she didn't know the swords weight and couldn't deceive him into believing he was completely empty handed. There might also be a restriction in her ability to concentrate -the more complexed the illusion, the less real it felt.

There were limits to her Devil Fruit, flaws in the mirages she created. It wasn't much of an advantage, but for the moment, it was all Mihawk had. Every Devil Fruit had a weakness, regardless of how God-Like the power of it seemed.

Spinning around, he leapt at the towering beast, right arm outstretched to run his black blade through its chest, even though he couldn't see or fully feel _Yoru_. The monster howled again as he flew, then exploded into fragments as the world tilted on its ear again. Mihawk grit his teeth, struggling to maintain his head as he tumbled once more into oblivion.

This time he landed mostly on his feet, being driven to one knee from the force. **HOT!** Heat rippled the air in waves, searing flesh and causing him to be immediately drenched in sweat. Mihawk was now in the heart of a volcano, lava bubbling all around him. He stood on an obsidian stone, heated to such a degree that the soles of his shoes were melting, driving the red hot burning sensation straight to his core.

Acid smoke assaulted his nose, blistering fire scorched his lungs and falling super-heated ash hit his skin, causing an almost cold sensation of pain as flesh was sizzled. He panted hard, each breath a laborious act. Before he could fully assimilate to the new condition, the molten rock gushed up in a column. Dozens of geysers surrounded him and from the liquid magma, demonic dog-like creatures with pointed heads, hooked claws and black spines lunged at him.

Mihawk howled in pain as one sank jagged teeth into his arm, ripping muscle and skin, burning away cloth and sending blinding agony though his body. Fisting his left hand, he struck the beast with a Haki infused punch. It shattering into a million pieces at the blow, but dozens more filed in to take its place.

His sword was once more in his hand. Either _Libra_ had come to realise she couldn't make him drop the weapon or she wasn't able to maintain the concentration to hide it from him. It mattered not, in either case, he was armed again. Slashing, hacking, and piercing at the magma canines, Mihawk fended off as many as possible. With the sheer numbers, it was impossible to keep them all at bay.

Razor claws ripped at his body, teeth seared flesh and sharp spines impaled. Each one that dissolved into broken glass was replaced by another. Hundreds of attacks, dozens of successful hits. His stamina was fading, his body being pushed to its limit. Mihawk couldn't tell which wounds were real, the pain was growing steadily stronger. Plus, the throbbing chest wound from earlier was getting worst, the poison starting to seep into his blood stream.

Then came a strike from behind more torturous than any the hound inflicted. His side was ripped open, crimson water pouring out. A yell left him, his body jerking away and he fell to one knee, free hand bracing against the stone to avoid letting himself go completely prone.

The air where he looked blurred in a different manner than the scorching heat waves and he saw a translucent image of _Libra_ spin away, twirling her curved blades coated in his blood. A mocking grin of sheer delight lit her face and her dark, malevolent laughter filled his ears as she vanished again. A wave of magma surged towards him, too massive to dodge around. Mihawk's eye flew open wide, the flaming wall closing in.

As the liquid fire touched him, it changed consistency. Wet, fridge water pounded down, driving him deep and crushing his body. He was underwater, so far down light couldn't been seen. Darkness surrounded, oxygen was stolen. His lung screamed in despair, begging for air as the massive pressure squeezed every inch of his form. Bubbles leaked from his lips as he fought desperately against the urge to inhale. His mind was growing darker, the lack of air making his head spin. Deeper and deeper he was pulled, swirling down into the bottomless pit of the ocean, ever hungry for the souls of those that lived above it.

Then the water was gone, washed away like the tide and Mihawk was on dry land again. Coughing violently on hands and knees, trying to clear his airways and refocus, he dragged in jagged breaths, the fire in his chest marginally fading, ruby drops of blood staining the ground under him.

He **HURT** everywhere!

Gasping hard, Mihawk forced himself to stand, stumbling and nearly falling before driving _Yoru_ into the ground as a solid perch to lean on. He was in the _Zodiac_ complex again, outside in the courtyard. He had no idea if this new image was real or if _Libra_ was once again toying with him. The massive assault on his senses had drained him, the extreme climate changes left him trembling, fatigue clawed at his every movement, his body demanding rest. Mihawk was moving on sheer force of will, any other man would have already succumbed to death.

As he struggled to stand upright, Mihawk spotted something in the shadows.

 _"You are impressive...absolutely magnificent..."_

 _Libra's_ voice seemed to come from everywhere, filling every corner of the area. Spinning his head around, struggling to fully focus through the blurred vision, Mihawk snarled in rage,

"Enough of your games, witch! Show yourself!"

Laughter met his demand, the sound echoing around like a haunting spirit. The complex was still and quiet, not even the wind blew. Mihawk's eyes darted around, struggling to find any sign of weakness, any flaw that would show where the hypnotist women was lurking.

Movement from behind had his whirling on the balls of his feet, sword singing a death note through the air. Only to jolt to an instant halt, blade quivering inches from its target. Blue eyes of Amarillo looked up at him, shining in innocence and confusion, a mane of golden hair and pale, soft skin. His breath caught at the image of Tamara. It was so lifelike, he wanted so badly to believe she was there.

"Mihawk..." her voice murmured, perfect in pitch and tone. He couldn't strike through her, not even knowing it was a false picture, knowing it might once more be _Libra_ in disguise. Even now, with his life on the line, with death licking at his heels, Mihawk couldn't bring himself to harm her.

Pain ripped down his spine, a cry forced from his throat. Stumbling again, he felt fresh blood trickle down his body. The Tamara image before him shattered, leaving behind the vile illusionist, who jumped backwards out of range of his sword. From the side, another _Libra_ circled around, two more images of the agent appearing to his right. Soon he was completely surrounded by multiple different agents, unable to tell which was real and which wasn't. Each replicate was perfect in creation, each one wielding the twin blades, all poising slightly differently.

"So easy. Men are such fools, such easy targets." Mihawk jerked his head towards one image, thinking it was the one that spoke, but the sound shifted again, coming from behind as _Libra_ continued her taunting, "Still, you did peek my interest, Shichibukai. I could make this enjoyable for you. You'd never need to feel pain again, I could bring you sensations unlike any you've ever experienced. Submit to me...and I will give it all to you."

Her voice had shifted to a seductive purr, rumbling like a cat in heat. Mihawk snarled as several of the images snaked forward, swords whistling. He deflected some of the hits, shattering a few mirages. But slices appeared on his skin, jolting pain ripping up his body. She was wearing him down, killing him with a thousand paper cuts and clearly enjoying every bloody second of the fight.

He wouldn't last much longer. Even with his Haki, his determination and skill, she was winning. The poison was overtaking him, his body's senses overloaded from the extreme changes, loss of blood making him lightheaded. Shaking his head in an attempt to clear it, he spoke to the multiple _Libra's_ with venom coating every word,

"You would have me as your pet? Don't insult me further, you are unworthy of my attention."

The images changed expressions to a coy, almost playful look, laughing out loud, "Oh, little Hawk, how valiantly you fight. I will remember you fondly. Perhaps I may even use this experience against my enemies in the future. Feel honored, Warlord, for you will not be forgotten."

"Nor will you, Madam. But I've not come this far to fall to one such as you, however powerful you might be."

More chortling lit the air, dark and foreboding, "Oh? And how, per say, do you intend to defeat me. You can barely stand, my poison is killing your body, and your blood flows like a river. We are through here, little Hawk."

"Yes...you are correct. We are finished." A grim smirk crossed Mihawk's face and he shifted his stance, preparing for the final strike.

 **"VIRGIL!"**

Screaming from the darkness came his salvation. Flying through the air, the small feline latched onto the leg of _Libra_ , shrieking like a blood crazed barbarian, clawing and ripping at flesh. _Libra_ cried out in response, completely caught off guard by the ferocious cat. She kicked out and raised a blade, ready to slice through the pet.

Blurring forward with all his speed, Mihawk closed his hand over the women's throat, clenching down hard and knocked her swords from her hands in one swift movement. His bull rush was so strong that the pair flew through a nearby wall, breaking the stone upon impact.

Every other image of the agent shattered as Mihawk forced her to the ground, mercilessly pinning her in place with his weight, holding her arms down with _Yoru_ sideways across her torso and immobilizing her legs with his own. She was strong for a women, but not as strong as him. Tightening his grip on her neck and cutting off her airways, he watched her struggle to draw breath, cheeks flaring in color as lack of oxygen made it impossible for her to concentrate on creating anything.

There in lay the greatest flaw in _Libra's_ power. She could only create images of what she knew was around. If another individual she was unaware of stumbled into her illusion, they would be seen exactly as they were. Hence why Mihawk had noticed the small feline padding the edges of the complex, searching for him and unaffected by the mirage. It had been a risk, delaying _Libra_ and goading her in to focusing solely on him while Virgil crept into an attack position. Even then, Mihawk hadn't been 100% sure which one was the real assassin. Not till the fierce cat had struck, breaking the women's acting and letting him know exactly which one he needed to grab.

Restraining the women under him, who's struggles lessened as oxygen depravation set in, Mhawk flicked his golden eyes to the feline perched on a nearby piece of debris.

"I told you to stay."

Virgil blinked once, tail swishing and gave a simple mew in response, as if to sarcastically say, _"You're welcome"_.

Chuckling lightly, Mihawk shifted his attention to _Libra_ , who was blurrily staring up at him, no longer fighting against his grip. Despite her vulnerable position, a sultry smirk still lingered on her lips, sickening lust gleaming in her black, soulless eyes,

"...Magnificent..." she weakly gasped out.

Disgusted by her attraction to him, he tighten his fingers around her neck, nearly crushing her trachea, "No more tricks. You will tell me what I want to know. Where is she?"

 _Libra_ even now refused to submit, managing to wheeze out a mocking laugh, "Such ferocity. What I wouldn't give to have you look at me that way." Even pinned down, she wiggled a leg, dragging it against his thigh in a manner meant to be seductive. Growling low, Mihawk cracked her head back against the solid ground.

"Speak...where is Tamara?"

"The little Princess? Oh, you're too late, little Hawk. She's gone, sailing away into the sunset."

Rage tore through him and he yanked _Libra_ up slammed her harshly against a wall, lifting her till her feet dangled above the ground, "Where is she being taken? Tell me!"

A weak chuckle came from the agent. Even now, she wasn't cowed, still toying with him. An impressive women, terrifying and deadly, even in the most helpless of predicaments. She licked her lips hungrily as she responded,

"My fare has been paid, well paid, I might add. You'll not break me as easily you did _Leo_. That spineless mouse-eater has no strength of will. Though he makes for a very good little pawn when needed. How much time did you waste extracting this location from him, I wonder? Can you afford to burn away more, trying to get me to scream, little Hawk? _Hmm_."

Mihawk hesitated. Her logic was sound, this women would not buckle under torture like her comrade had. At least not easily. She'd obviously experience countless different sensations and feelings over the years, to be able to so vividly replicate them in her illusions. Tamara was off the island, being taken away even as he fought to get her back. Time was slipping away, he needed answers quickly.

"What are you suggesting, Madam?"

 _Libra's_ dark eyes dragged over his body, lingering on his flesh like a starving animal looking at a rare cooked steak. Mihawk fought down a shudder, his stomach curling at the desire painted on her face. He was willing to do just about anything to get Tamara back, but that...

"I could be persuaded to divulge the knowledge you seek...for a price."

Curling his lip, Mihawk took the bait, "What price?"

She grinned despite the blood dripping from the split on her lip. Mihawk almost flinched a the ravenous expression, but held himself firm. After a few moments of thought, she answered,

"My comrade, _Leo_. Does he still live?"

Suspicious and somewhat surprised at the question, Mihawk grunted back, lowering her so her feet were on the ground once more, "He was when I left. Whether he still is now is debatable."

" _Hmm_...still on Kuraigana then? Well, that will do. I imagine you've amassed quite the vast amount of wealth, tucked away inside your castle as well, am I correct?" Now fully paranoid about _Libra's_ intent, but still willing to negotiate out of necessity, Mihawk merely nodded. She smirked in delight, "Excellent. I immensely enjoy having that fleabag of an agent under my thumb. I'll take my payment from your trove as well. You don't mind, do you?"

"Take what you want. Is that the all that you demand?" It seemed far too easy, given the nature of this women. One agent owing her a life debt and a fortune of gold? He didn't believe she'd be satisfied with that.

His hunch was correct as _Libra_ chortled darkly, "Oh no, little Hawk. That will be sufficient enough to convince me to tell you the reason why the little Princess was snatched from your care. Why such effort was made to obtain her. If you wish to know where she's being taken right now...well...that will cost you even more."

That was what his gut had been churring about. Feeling bile rise in his throat, but forcing himself to maintain his composure, he growled in his chest, digging fingers into _Libra's_ flesh, nails leaving crescent marks. The women didn't flinch back at the hold, rather she squirmed in near pleasure, eyelids fluttering and a whimper crawling from her lips.

" _Mmm_...such strength. Delicious."

"Enough!" He snarled, power ripping through his words. In this moment, Mihawk truly wished his could utilize Haoshoku Haki like Shanks. It would be incredibly satisfying to see this vile women tremble in fear, "What do you want?"

She stilled in his hold, finally seeming to grow more serious. Her eyes gleamed in desire, most of it directed to towards him. Mihawk loosened his hold a bit as she leaned forward,

"What do I want? What I truly desire, you are unwilling to give. Such a shame, the heights I could take you to. But if you wish to learn the place where your Princess is being taken...that will cost you a favor."

"A...favor?" His heart stuttered a bit. That was almost worst than her wanting his body. She could ask him for aid in a mass killing or commanded him to do damn near anything. And he would be honor bound to carry it through. For a women like this, asking such a thing would grant her a power over him no other had.

"Indeed. A boon from you, to be call in and answered at my leisure. Without question or hesitation. Grant me this, _Hawk-Eyes_ Mihawk, and I will tell you everything you want to know."

"Your actions seem counterproductive. Giving me this information betrays your previous employer. How does that benefit you?"

 _Libra_ smirked in triumph, "I am one who always weighs both sides of the scales and regardless of the outcome, I always get my pound of flesh, little Hawk. Whether you succeed or fail in your task matters not, I will be victorious one way or another."

Truly, she was a lady that knew exactly how to play both sides. He maintained his hold on _Libra_ , even though weakness was setting in. She likely could break his grip now, if she wished, but she stayed still, seeming to be content to wait and see if he would accept her offer. It was a huge risk for him.

As Mihawk contemplated, an image of Tamara streaked through his mind, her joyful laugh ringing in his ears, blue eye sparkling with life. He recalled the yawning emptiness that had overwhelmed him when he'd first though her to be dead.

Yes...for her, he would accept this burden, even if it destroyed him in the end.

"I will agree to your terms, but I also have some conditions."

"Which are?"

Mihawk carefully released his hold on _Libra's_ neck, slowly pulling back, prepared to snatch her again, should another vision of fragmented glass appear before his eyes, "If and when you call upon me, there will never be any risk to her, she will be kept free and clear of any misdeeds done. If she is harmed in any way at all, this accord is null and void. You will also never again accept any mission involving either of us from this point forward."

 _Libra_ pursed her lips, debating silently the pros and cons of the deal. Finally, she nodded in agreement.

"I cannot promise anything of other members of _Zodiac_ , but me and my brood will honor this arrangement. Until I will it, you and your Princess will never see me again."

She appeared to have some honor, some measure of humanity. Despite everything that had happened, Mihawk believed the words she spoke. _Libra_ would carry through with her promises, both the good and the bad. Stepping back, Mihawk took a minute to assess his person. His hat was missing, lost somewhere in the fight. He'd need to find _Kogatana_ as well. He struggled to hide the pain and weariness seeping into his body as he moved away from _Libra_. Obviously, he didn't succeed as well as he'd hope as she smirked knowingly,

"You should sit down, little Hawk, before you fall down." Reaching into her skin tight top, _Libra_ withdrew a small vial from her cleavage and tossed it to him. He snatch up the flying tube, eyeing the agent suspiciously.

"Drink it, otherwise the toxin in your blood will end you. That's not productive to me or you."

Growling softly, Mihawk uncorked the vial, tipping back the contents. The bitter flavor nearly made him gag. But _Libra_ nodded in satisfaction. Moving over to where Virgil sat, he leaned against the large stone, feeling his body sigh in relief at the movement. The feline moved to take shelter behind him, eying _Libra_ with distain and rumbling low in his throat. Mihawk lifted his chin regally,

"We have an agreement, Madam. Speak."

She chuckled darkly again, "Indeed we do. Listen closely, Shichibukai, for I'll not repeat myself and you'll want to hear this clearly."

Mihawk felt his eye widened as the truth spilled from the Illusionist lips, spinning a tale so fantastical it was almost beyond belief.

* * *

 **Did I do good? I hope so.**

 **So, as many of you wanted to believe, Tamara is indeed not dead...yet anyway. She's also not here. Poor Mihawk, arriving just a bit too late. XD Anyway, I hope that helped everyone feel a bit better. I am very happy with how much the last chapter affected my readers. I've read a number of fics that hit me in the feels just as hard and I always love it. Hopefully, you all felt the same.**

 **I also really enjoyed creating _Libra_ as a character. Whether you love or hate her, you have to admire how capable she is, being able to always come out as a victor no matter the situation. And lets face it, who doesn't have a slight crush on Mihawk? That was what I was going for in representing her as the Zodiac sign she is, someone always able to tilt the balance in her favor. It occurred to me that she'd do very well in the World Government, seeing as she always makes sure she wins one way or another.**

 **I hope she didn't come of too OP. After I wrote this chapter, it occurred to me that _Libra_ would likely be an awakened Devil Fruit user, but honestly, she'll likely not play a huge role in the story for too much longer, so it doesn't matter one way or the other. Still, I find her to be a very cool character and I'm happy with how she came to life.**

 **A few readers reviewed about how Mihawk never was shown to have a love interest in the Manga or Anime. And while this is true and I do love the original content, I will be diverting a bit in my story. A tragic love story is a beautiful thing and may very well be what happens in the end, but not just yet. I've still got too much to tell in this fic to end it so soon. Therefore, we will be continuing on.**

 **As I made the last 2 chapters in Mihawk's viewpoint, Tamara will be up front for a bit in the future.**

 **The sheer number of reviews is making me tear up. I am so touched by everyones support, so I must move on to my shout outs. And I will include everyone, cause I love all of you so much. Thank you so very much for all of your support.**

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 **431101134: **Glad you enjoyed the chapter. Expect many more feels in the coming updates.

 **BlackDove WhiteDove:** You got your wish, the last part didn't really happen. **XD** We might get the happy, only time will tell.

 **OneWhoReadsTooMuch:** You know, I honestly didn't even think about Mihawk's menacing image being ruined when I wrote up the last chapter, but your right, that is a hilarious picture I painted.

 **Allykrau:** I was hidden away _LONG_ before I posted the update. I know my readers. Lol. Anyway, I do like the original content, but I'm adding my own spin to it. So, for now, there still might be hope for Mihawk to have a mate.

 **Tnancemst22:** Welcome to the party Tnace. Thanks so much for your review, I'm glad I was able to surprise you. I hope to see more lovely comments from you in the future.

 **the-lurkingAnon-reader:** You are also a new face I've not seen on my board before. Welcome to the chaos Anon. The intensity dial is turned way up, its likely going to get worst. Stick around, it'll be fun.

 **Desirae668:** Hey Des, hope the wait was worth it. Libra was a really fun character to put together, I hope she met your expectations. Plus...yah, I like the cliffy's. **XD**

 **mezzieb1: **_*Ducks flying object*_ Sorry! I am the worstest, I know. XD

 **Darla Wolf: **I needed to cover my butt. So humorous disclaimers it was. Hopefully this chapter made up for the meaness of the last one.

 **Toreh: **I found it hilariously ironic that you guessed the conclusion of a mirage even before this chapter came out. It made me giggle so much.

 **TheComprehensiveJellyfish:** So glad you're enjoying the drama. This is honestly the most intensive fic I've written, so I'm so psyched you love it so much.

 **Scarlet Silvers:** Well, you got your wish. No dead Mara and one royally pissed off Warlord. Hope you enjoyed it

 **Spirit of the Blue Jay: **_*All laptops, walls and inanimate objects thank you for your restraint*_ **XD**

 **Akatra:** Hello Akata. Welcome to the TOTH. Your review was so touching and made me smile for days. Thanks so much for your beautiful words and don't worry about the non-English words. I understand the meaning behind them, even if i don't know what they translate to. And do not worry, this fic will continue on for some time.

 **Nevermorea:** I truly fear the thousands of small Nevermorea's...please don't unleash them on me. **XD**

 **Guest: **You have more control than me, being able to resist the urge to read regardless of the warnings. In any case, I hope the wait was worth it.

 **Croatia1234:** Welcome Croatia. I'm glad to have you along for the ride. Thanks so much for your review, I'm very happy you find this story enjoyable. I didn't think much of it when I wrote it up, but Tamara does resemble Robin in some of her mannerism. I'm also a Robin fan, so maybe I unintentionally took on some of her traits. Either way, thanks for the compliment.


	19. The Truth Shall Imprison

**Hello again.**

 **My apologise for the delay in getting this chapter out. I have been fighting againist the worst flu bug known to mankind. Seriously, I almost ended up hosptialized cause I refused to eat anything. Luckily, I have a loving boyfreind who forced his love on me and nurse me back to health. But fear not, I am back and once again focused.**

 **So just a heads up, while there is not anything overly detailed in this chapter, but there are definatly heavy themes of darker intentions. It is unforunatly nessasary to bring all of the loose ends that have been building up together. I realise they may not be entirly belivable, given the extented lifes of the people of One Peice, but the theory is fairly sound in my mind.**

 **I also hope I managed to show the still active connection and affection that Mihawk and Tamara share between each other, even separated, with Mihawk somehow drawing strength and resolve from barely heard murmurs only he can detect or making life altering decisions via her mental image and her finding her courage in the same manner. It's difficult to show this kind of bond in writing, but hopefully I did an okay job throughout the last few chapters.**

 **In any case, thank you once again for the lovely reviews and if your enjoying the story, please leave a comment. Enjoy the read.**

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Considering she was the prisoner of a group of deadly, power-hungry assassins-for-hire, Tamara was being treated surprisingly well.

She was still confined to the iron bar cell, of course, but overall, her captors weren't terrible. Three times a day she was escorted out, in handcuffs, but still taken from the holding room and permitted to use the lavatory facilities. Tamara had used this small freedom to try and keep her skin and clothes clean. Her hair was getting greasy from lack of washing, but so far, she'd been able to finger comb out most of the tangles that had formed.

Twice a day, food was delivered to her cell. It was fairly bland, usually consisting of bread, cheese, dried meat or fruit and water, but it was enough to keep her strength up. After her first meeting with _Libra_ , Tamara had fallen into herself, refusing to consume the food. The agent had shown up on the second day of her fast, calmly ordering Tamara to eat or she'd force a tube down her throat and pour liquid nutrients into her system. Tamara had no doubt she'd do it, so out of necessity, had chosen to consume the food willingly. It tasted like ash in her mouth, but she did finish every bit from the tray when it was brought.

Aside from the crippling boredom of being locked in a plain walled cell guarded by men that said absolutely nothing, Tamara was overall fairly healthy physically. Mentally, however, that was an entirely different problem.

She'd gone completely numb after learning of Mihawk's death and her eventual transfer back into Yorinaga's hands. The anguish and pain was just too much to handle. She didn't speak, ate only because she'd been ordered to, groomed herself by sheer habit. Nothing mattered, the world was a silent grey wasteland with no point in carrying on. The only reason she was still alive was because _Libra_ was taking pains to ensure her body stay functional. Tamara was quite certain her heart wasn't beating anymore as she hadn't felt it in days.

The worst part of the whole situation was that Tamara had absolutely no idea why such effort had been made to capture her again. She didn't know why her depraved Uncle was so desperate to keep her or why he'd done the things he did prior to her arrival on Kuraigana.

Even with her system shut down, the thought of going back filled her with dread and terror. Resting her chin on her knees, Tamara stared blankly at the barred wall, idlily wondering in the left guard had twitched or if she was seeing things. Then she decided she didn't care. Pulling her legs in tighter to try and ward off some of the cold. It didn't work and Tamara honestly couldn't bring herself to care that much.

New footsteps echoed down the gloomy corridor. Tamara's eyes moved slightly, looking over the trim women standing before the cell, serpent smirk on her blood red lips.

"Rise and shine, Little Princess. Things are about to get very interesting."

 _Libra's_ mocking tone still managed to chill her blood, a shaking breath being taken in. Clenching down harder, trying to make herself even smaller, Tamara whimpered back in terror, "Please don't. Don't let him take me, let me stay here. Just a little while longer...please."

Her quivering plea almost seemed to affect the ice hearted women, her expression shifting for a moment before resuming her chilling appearance.

"Business is business, Little Princess. Sometimes deals change. Get up."

Joints creaking in protest and skin trembling, Tamara slowly stood, turning her back and moving her wrist close together. She was never allow outside the cell unrestrained, her captors were very careful about ensure she couldn't escape. Cold metal clamped around her pulse points. _Libra_ nudged her more forcefully than necessary and the two guards flanked her on either side. She walked as slowly as she possibly could without the guards pushing her, head down, concentrating hard on putting one foot in front of the other.

She didn't cry. Tamara was sure her body was unable to form tears anymore, a mass fountain of water having poured from her eyes constantly for days much earlier. As hollow as she felt, weeping was too much of an effort to ask her small frame to execute. They travelled up a set of stairs, then another, ascending to a higher level. _Libra_ pushed open a heavy door, reveling a lavishly decorated room warmed by a large fire. The thick, plush carpet under her feet was comfortable, but nothing was felt as Tamara's soul shattered at the sight waiting.

He looked so much like her, so much like her deceased Mother. The same golden hair, same blue eyes, same nose. Even clothed in the trim blue suit with the long white coat perched on his shoulders with _'Justice'_ written boldly on the back, he still reminded Tamara of her parent. Except her Mother had never instilled such nightmarish panic in her.

Without thought, Tamara spun on her heels, lunging backwards for the still open door. The guards on either side caught her arms, restraining her easily as she twisted wildly. Pulling her further into the room, she couldn't quite hold in the whimper as Yorinaga stepped closer, a smile on his face that made her stomach twist.

"My beloved niece. I've been ever so worried about you. I was truly afraid I'd lost you in that horrid storm. How brave and strong you must have been, fighting against death." His fingers reached out, gently caressing her face, tilting her chin up so she was forced to look at him, "You've nothing to fear now, my dear. We're together again, reunited. Nothing is stronger than family ties, don't you agree?"

Disgust and anger ripped though her, forcing away the numbing fear for a few moments. Tamara snapped her teeth down on her Uncle's hand, biting as hard as possible and tasted blood in her mouth. A howl left the marine as he jerked back clutching his fingers,

"Family!? What the hell do you know about family, you fucking monster!? You kill my Papa, your own brother! Burned down my home and killed the people I loved! You're a bastard! Get away from me!"

Tamara rebelled violently against the guards holding her, struggling to break free. They didn't react, merely shifted to hold her still. Yori's face grew enraged and he raised a hand to strike her, "Little bitch!"

Before the blow landed, the marines arm was grabbed and a blade pressed against his neck, "As amusing as this little reunion is, Vice-Admiral, we're not done with our agreement yet. Step back, we've things to discuss."

Taking his attention off her, Tamara watched Yorinaga move away, looking over _Libra_ with caution and confusion as the women moved herself between them. Briefly, Tamara wondering if the assassin was protecting her, then banished the thought. Everything _Libra_ did was for her own benefit, this act was no different. Accepting the grip of the guards, she settled down and waited to see what would play out, savoring the few moments she had not in her Uncle's custody.

"Your debt is paid, _Libra_ , you owe me nothing more. I must say, I'm very impressed at your work. But then, you are always successful, one way or another, aren't you."

The powerful women smirked back at the blond male, "Of course I am. However, I'm afraid you still owe me payment, Yorinaga."

"In what way? You brought her back, our agreement is done."

 _Libra_ chuckled darkly, flipping the dagger along her fingers, "I did capture her and in doing so, I fulfilled the bargain we agreed on. However, I executed this mission on the information you provided me and you assured me, gave me your word, that it was completely accurate. That no other obstacle besides the Shichibukai would interfere. I trusted that information and planned according to it. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that you were wrong."

Her Uncle looked unsure, fearful of the assassin, shifting a little, "The layout of the island and its inhabitant were completely accurate. If you had trouble with your mission, it was your own folly, not mine."

"Wrong, Yorinaga. Very wrong. You failed to inform me that a Yonko would be on the island."

Tamara had honest to God forgotten that Shanks and Benn had been on Kuraigana when she was taken. Obliviously, her Uncle hadn't known that either and paled significantly, "Y-Yonko? Who? That's...that not possible, my scouts surveyed the area, there was no..."

"Oh its very possible." _Libra's_ tone was bone chilling now, frosting the air as she spoke. The guards shifted uncomfortably and even Tamara was immensely glad she wasn't the target of that rage, " _Red-Haired_ Shanks was there. It's a bloody miracle I got off the island and back here in one piece. Beyond that little fact, _Zodiac_ lost a named agent, an extremely promising acolyte and two Zelbra cloaks because of your misinformation."

She glared at Yorinaga, "I don't think I need to tell you what a loss that is to our organisation. A loss that could have been entirely prevented, had you procured the right information for me."

The blond marine was regaining his footing, but still looked like a train wreak had hit him, "How could I have possible known a Yonko would arrive there the same time you did? Your losses are not my fault, I will not pay for them. Our deal is done, give me the girl!"

Yorinaga moved to push past _Libra_ , arm raising up to grab Tamara. The dagger was suddenly imbedded in the floor, centimetres from the man's toe, the blade quivering and making him immediately freeze. Tamara felt a small silver of hope start to grow as she watched the drama unfold.

"Whether you knew or not make no difference. The simple fact is I was forced to spontaneously change tactics in order to complete my assignment. That could have been avoided, if the right information had been given to me. That mistake lies with you, Yorinaga. So if you truly wish to have your little family back together...my cost for that is triple."

Her Uncle was now completely white, eye open wide and swaying slightly, "T-triple? That's...I can't take that kind of advance from the Navy stores. The Admiral's will notice immediately, everything I've worked for...built up...will be destroyed. I can't..."

 _Libra_ shrugged off handily, "That is my fare. If you can't meet it, we're done here. Take her back."

Tamara eagerly turned to move with the guards as they started to escort her from the room. Yorinaga howled behind her, " **NO!** You can't, everything is depending this! The _Tenryūbito_ will never accept me without her! I need her!"

"Stop." Everyone jolted to a halt at _Libra's_ command. She turned her head slowly, eying Yori with black orbs ever calculating and clever, "What part do the Celestial Dragons play in this matter?"

Even as cold as the assassin was, Tamara could hear the hatred and vile disgust in her voice as she spoke. Her Uncle seemed to realize that he'd slipped up in his desperation to bargain with _Libra_ and stuttered out nonsense, not really answering. The black haired women raised up her hand and the guards started to move her again. This finally knocked Yori's sense back online,

"Wait! Wait, _Libra_. I..."

Fingers twitched and the guards paused. Tamara was just as baffled as everyone else in the room, having no idea what her insane Uncle was babbling about. Yori took in a breath, gathering himself and speaking in a calmer tone,

"I can pay you what you ask for, and so, so much more. I can give you the world, if you want. But not right now, I need time. Not a lot of time, maybe a year at the most." He gestured towards her with one hand, "All I need is her. This whole plan, everything I've done, everything I've worked for...it all hinges on her."

"Explain Yorinaga. Tell me why this Little Princess is so valuable to you? Why should I risk my fare on your empty words?"

The Vice-Admiral looked positively pained about having to speak, but fear of loosing Tamara was enough to persuade him to talk, "You know the history of the world. That twenty kings gathered their strength and built the world we now know. Their decedents, the blood line of those conquers now call themselves Gods, heavenly hosts that inhabit the Holy Land of Mary Geosie and hold power and influence none other can ever hope to have."

"I know the history, what does any of this have to do with this girl or you for that matter." _Libra_ was getting annoyed and that was a dangerous thing to do. Yori waved his hands, trying to calm her down,

"The _Tenryūbito_ , the World Nobles are the direct blood line decedents of the Twenty Kings. They are a symbol and a reminder that the past is still the same, that nothing has changed. But even the great Celestial Dragons have their problems. Maintaining the lineage is not as easy at it would seem. It takes effort to arrange marriages, to birth pureblood children and keep the linage intact. Interfamily relationship are common place, its the only way to ensure the Celestial Dragons keep strong connections to their ancestors."

"Even so, even with their wealth, their power and heavenly claim, even the Nobles of the Holy Land must sometimes step out and sully their royal line with outsiders, to avoid having the genes become too intermingled. So, they will take on courtesans to diversify the lines and avoid too much inbreeding. One of these chosen partners...was my Mother."

 _Libra_ narrowed her eyes, even as Tamara breath stopped, her knees nearly buckling, "You lie...the World Nobles would never lower themselves to breed with a commoner."

He shook his head, "It's not a lie, _Libra_. Even you must see that the _Tenryūbito_ cannot have simply married between themselves for hundreds of years. Their offspring would have been so inbred by now they wouldn't even be able to stand up. It's more common than you think, but kept a tight lipped secret. Most who speak of it are shot dead in their tracks. My Mother was a chosen courtesan for the _'Valancia'_ family, one of the remaining eighteen."

He started pacing the room, now on a roll, spitting out venom and what had to be a long time personal vendetta of the past,

"She was given everything! Wealth, power, privilege, position. All of it, everything anyone could ever want. And what did my dearly, departed Mother choose to do? Flee the Holy Land, run down to the common folk, impregnated and penniless, squalling away in the filth of the world! She couldn't handle being part of their world, could stomach all the luxury and pressures of living up to what being a Celestial Dragon was. Didn't want to see her children become like them. So she ran, hid herself away, constantly fleeing from the Marines ordered to bring her back. Till she eventually gave birth to my sister and me."

"We should have been Kings! Raised in the Holy Land, offered tributes and having commoners bow down. Instead, my dear Mother found refuge on a filthy speck of an island in the South Blue, settled down and try to raise us like normal people! We weren't normal! We were royalty! Are royalty! Gods! We should have been taken to Mary Geosie, should have lived there!"

He paused there, panting and shaking. Rage and wild resentment resonated from his eyes, shaking the air. But Yori calmed himself, continuing the story,

"I learned of my birthright early. Mother tried to hide it from me, but I learned. I knew I was destined for better, greater things than what she wanted. So I left, joined the Navy and ascended the ranks. It took years, but I was able to procure a meeting with Kong, the voice between the Five Elder Stars. I made my case to them, asked for recognition back into the _Tenryūbito_ linage."

Even Libra sneered at that, "Impossible. The Celestial Dragons would never accept someone contaminated by the common into their inner circle. You're actions are pointless."

He nodded back, "Yes, its true. My request into their world was denied. But a clause was added to the denial. I could be brought into the World Nobles society, if a child could be produce. If a viable offspring for the Nobles to raise as one of their own was created, I would be given the honored place of warden, granted nearly all rights claimed by them for raising and protecting the child. Not a true full, blooded _Tenryūbito_ , but one of near equal standing by any other view. With this position, I would still wield power and rights unlike any other. So I returned to my sister, my dear twin Yukinaga, to bring her back to the Holy Land where we belonged."

"But she didn't want to go. She was happy, living life in the dirt and mud." There was a bitter snarl on her Uncles lips, "She'd already married someone, someone she loved and would not leave. She even had a child, a young daughter. Yukinaga was as much a fool as my own Mother. She couldn't see what this opportunity presented, what it could do for our family, our prestige. To rise up out of the squalor and become Gods once more. I couldn't believe it! Wouldn't accept it!"

Tamara was full out shaking now, trembling so hard her teeth were chattering, "No...no. It's not true...Mother would have told me...she wouldn't have kept something like that from me...she would have told me..."

The chant was whispered and repeated, as though she could somehow make herself believe it. She was a _Tenryūbito_ descendent? A part of the society that burned islands, enslaved countless, took mercilessly from others and cared nothing for the pain and misery left in their passing? It wasn't ture...it couldn't be true.

Her Uncle sneered at her shock, "Yukinaga was a selfish, stubborn women. She wanted you to be normal, to never know your noble blood heritage. You can't tell me you didn't notice some things that were odd in your upbringing? Yuki's seemly above average intelligence, her knowledge of things that she shouldn't even know existed? Literature accessible only by those of high society? The way she carried herself, like she was better than everyone else? How she spoke so primly, always using proper grammar? My Mother was taught by the nobles of Mary Geoise, taught how to be a true lady of the court. Those lesson were passed to me and my little sister, then to you."

Tamara despairingly shook her head, the numbness now changed to fridge cold as she remembered a distance memory from when she was much younger...

 _Mother and Father's room always smelt so good, with fresh roses all around. Climbing on the bed, a very young Tamara snuggled into the soft covers. Her parent bed was so much bigger, it was fun to roll around on. Something caught her eye under a pillow. Curious as only a child could be, Tamara pulled out the book, the front cover stamped with a strange circle with four triangles around the outside. Still curious, she opened the old book, looking inside, but still too young to understand the words or the pictures of people with funny hair combed upwards with funny curl at the top._

 _"Sweetie? What are you doing?"_

 _Looking up at her female parent, Tamara smiled brightly, "Mama! You've got a funny book here. How come you've never read this one to me?"_

 _Seeing the book in her hand, Yuki's face paled and she quickly took it away, "That's not a child's book, sweetie. Come now, let's go work in the garden..."_

 _Her now adult mind recognised the Hoofprint of the Celestial Dragons on the cover and the words as family tree of a bloodline labeled 'Valancia'._

The memory faded and she shook her head in denial again, "No..no-no-no..."

Yorinaga ignored his distraught niece, turning back to _Libra_ , "I tried to convince Yuki, tried to force her to come, but she was adamant, stubborn and bore headed. She rallied the natives of the island against me and at the time, I had not the power to oppose them. So I was forced to leave. I took the time to build allegiance, gained ranks in the Navy and prepared to return, with the intent of taking my misguided sister, one way or another. Imagine my surprise when I learned she died of some random disease while I was gone. It was a shame, but not a complete loss. Seeing as Yuki had left behind a very viable replacement in her daughter."

He stepped forwards slightly, holding out hands to _Libra_ in pleading, "Don't you see. I can give you everything you ever wanted, everything you ever desired. Once I am accepted into the Holy Land, there will be nothing outside your grasp. Ask for anything, and I will grant it. All you need to do is let me take her with me. I cannot accomplish this without her. The blood must be pure. "

Those words...that chant that echoed in her dreams snapped her from her coma-like trance.

"You're lying! Your a liar! It's not true! I'm not...!" Tears now flowed from her eyes now, her disgust and shock at her own blood, at the possibility that what her Uncle was saying might actually be factual. That she might really be a _Tenryūbito_. She twisted uselessly, the guards still holding her firm.

 _Libra_ looked between the two, still deep in contemplation, unsure if she should believe. Yorinaga sensed her hesitation and plied more promises, desperate to win her over.

"We've been associated a long time, _Libra_. Have you ever known me to go back on my word? I wouldn't be offering you this if it wasn't true, I know what would happen to me if I deceived you. You are one that always makes sure the scales tilt in your favor. Think of what you could do, with me as a part of the World Nobles. I could legitimize _Zodiac_ , put you as the head agent. Give you an island to rule, dozens of them, if that's what you want. Anything you wish, I will grant, for as long as you want. Just let me take her...please."

The assassin didn't response right away, weighing the choices. Finally, she nodded, "Your offer is acceptable, Yorinaga. But make no mistake, if you fail to deliver on this promise of yours...there will be dire consequences. I don't take well to not getting my fare, so you'd best make sure your little scheme succeeds. Because if I have to come after you for payment...you won't like what happens."

Her Uncle swallowed hard, face pale. Even he was terrified of this women, what she was capable of, and he was a Vice-Admiral. Not someone weak or part of the bulk of the Navy, but an individual that had fought hard and earned his place among them. He nodded fearfully, "Of course, my Lady. I'd expect nothing less."

Tamara was still bone numbly cold, stunned beyond all belief at the tale of her lineage, feeling vile disgust at her own blood rise up. She hated herself, hated who she was, what she was. Nausea hit her stomach and she retched violently, nearly vomiting on the floor. Her teeth ground together and she constantly shook her head in denial. So captured inside her own mind was she, that the sound of steps behind her wasn't even heard.

"Vice-Admiral? Are we done here? The tide will be out soon, we need to shove off."

The voice of Winters didn't cause a response from Tamara, even though part of her recognised his tone as one of her tormentors from months back. He'd been one of the men to capture her from Sagiune, had help murder her Papa and burnt her island home to the ground. She couldn't bring herself to care about him in this moment, still too shaken, trying desperately to find her footing.

Yorinaga looked to Libra for approval, knowing better than to act without her permission. She was truly an absolutely terrifying women. She nodded sharply,

"We are done. Don't think I won't call on your promise, Vice-Admiral. You'd best be prepared to answer, when the time comes."

She waved at her subordinates, who stepped aside. Winters moved in, placing a heavy hand on Tamara's shoulder, turning her away and guiding her down the staircase. Yori quickly followed, falling in a step beside her.

She didn't fight, couldn't fight. Her mind was shutting down, even worst than when she'd learned of Mihawk's death. Everything was wrong, the world was upside down. It wasn't till the chill of outside air hit her skin and sharp foliage dug into her bare feet that Tamara started to come back to her senses.

It made sense now. Why her Uncle had been absent for so long. She'd only known him in her younger years, when child like innocence blinded her to what he was. Why her Father had been so angry, why he'd resisted letting the man stay with them, argued and fought with him. He'd been protecting her all along. Her Mother had always been closed lipped about their ancestry, saying they were making their own lineage on Saguine. She'd never spoken of Tamara's Grandmother or any other relatives besides Yorinaga.

Yes...it made sense now. It had to be true. And that was more sickening to her than anything she'd ever experienced. She wanted to die, wanted to end it all. It wasn't worth it, nothing mattered anymore.

 _…Death is easy...Living is hard..._

A whisper breeze past her, penetrating the foggy gloom overwhelming her mind. It sounded almost like Mihawk's voice, but from inside her head, like a shadow fliting through a beam of light. Her breath caught, feet stumbled and senses cleared.

Without another thought, Tamara whirled in place, driving her knee up into Winters groin with all the force she could muster. He howled in sheer agony, the unexpected attack making him buckle to the ground, clutching his family jewels in instinct. Dropping low, she lashed out a leg in a sweep, catching her Uncle's heels and knocking him off balance. Leaping back to her feet, she jumped over her prone relative and bolted into the night.

The pain on her feet was ignored, she raced onwards. Though Mihawk's constant annoyance at her barefoot state did now have some value, she'd likely be faster if she was wearing shoes. Twigs and branches tore at her, but she pushed on. With her hands restrained, her true speed couldn't be achieved, but she didn't think about that. Distance was needed, she just had to get away.

A cracking snap lit the air and Tamara was pitched forward, smashing into the ground. Something was wrapped around her legs. Twisting and wiggling, she squealed as she suddenly came face to face with a large black serpentine head with gleaming silted eye. It was coiled around her calves, tightening its grip and making it impossible to escape. A forked tongue shot out, triangular head opened and curved fangs dripping with venom were seen.

"No biting, Nina. We need her alive and well." Her Uncle's scolding voice snapped her out of the frightened haze, jerking her eyes towards him. He was holding the handle of his whip, the length was partial on the ground, leathery material merging with the scaly serpent's body that was restraining her. Tamara stared at the odd sight, voice cracking in shock,

"W-what is this? Did this snake eat a Devil Fruit? Why is it connected to your whip?"

Yori chuckled a little, "Oh no, my dear. Quite the opposite. My whip is the one that ate the Devil Fruit, it consumed the _Hebi Hebi no Mi, Model: Black Mamba._ This is Nina. Isn't she just lovely."

The snake being addressed slithered closer, flicking her long tongue over Tamara's skin. She squirmed in response, causing the serpent to circle another coil around her, "That doesn't make any sense! Let go! Let me go!"

Her fight did nothing but cause Nina to squeeze tighter, winding around her torso, but not so tight that she couldn't breath. There defiantly be some bruises left behind though. The length of the snake seem unnatural, its size too large for a normal serpent. But it was a Devil Fruit, so really, it didn't need to make sense. Her Uncle waltzed forward, watching her struggle with an amused look.

"You've grow stronger since we've been parted, braver and more determine. What happened to my meek little girl that couldn't bring herself to raise a fist in defence of her parent or herself? What have you been doing these last few months?"

Tamara didn't bother answering, still fighting to break free of Nina's hold. Her Uncle flicked his wrist and the snake-whip lifted her body forcibly into the air. Now completely helpless, she was forced to look her perverted relative in the face. He appeared impressed by her actions rather than angry. Unlike Winters who stalked behind him, fists clenched, ready to hit her.

"You little..." As he raised his arms, Nina's head darted forward, a menacing hiss leaving the snakes mouth, fangs flashing. Winters paused and Yori chucked again.

"You've got a fire burning in you, my beloved niece. One that wasn't there before. Have you finally accepted your noble heritage, I wonder? Either way, I suppose I'll need to employ a new method to get what I want. No matter, we have time. We've all the time in the world."

Tamara couldn't bring herself to answer as the two men turned and continued to walk towards the large ship moored in the port. Nina kept her coils tight, carrying her over the ground and ensure there was no further escape attempts. She bowed her head, chin trembling at she struggled to hold onto her courage, silently begging for someone, for something to save her.

* * *

Mihawk stared at _Libra_ in disbelief, "You cannot be serious..."

The agent shrugged nonchalantly, "I didn't believe it either, not a first. But Yorinaga is nothing if not a man of his word. I've dealt with him many a time, and he has always been faithful to his bargains. If he says this story is true, I am inclined to believe him."

Turning away from the assassin, Mihawk took in a breath. He'd been expecting an old enemy to be behind the kidnapping, maybe a jilted rival that wished him distracted in a duel or possibly some idiot pirate looking to ransom Tamara back to him. But this, this twisted tale of one man's ambition that was destroying lives, islands and tearing apart one women's mental health. It was sick beyond words.

"So tell me, Little Hawk, do you still wish to rush after your Princess, knowing now what she is?"

He growled low, now more determine than ever. It didn't matter what her bloodline was, where she came from or who she was before. She was his, and he would have her back with him, even if all that was left was an empty shell. He would accept anything she was willing to give to him, however small or insignificant. He would shelter her, give her reason to exist. But he needed to hurry, time was slipping away.

Pushing away from the rock, sheathing _Yoru_ on his back and letting Virgil move across his shoulders, he looked _Libra_ dead in the eye, "Tell me where he's taking her...then get out of my way."

* * *

 **So there you have it folks. The long awaited explanation as to why Tamara's island was attacked, why she was taken and abused in such a volient manner. Not a pretty picture, but one that I hope answers some questions. It will definatly leave a massive impact on the rest of her life, but heres hoping Mihawk can pull her back to the surface before she drowns.**

 **Once again, I must give shout outs to those that left such wonderful words.**

 **WhiteyWolf26:** So glad you enjoyed the chapter. I loved Vigil too, he's the bestest boy.

 **Guest:** Welcome back, hope it was worth the wait. XD

 **Nevermorea:** *Carefully pushes a bag of Oreo cookies towards the thousand mini-Nevers* Peace offering?

 **BlackDove WhiteDove:** Up and downs galore. That's what I'm aiming for. Glad your enjoying it. I honestly didn't even consider the Mario reference, your review made me grin when you pointed it out.

 **TheComprehensiveJellyfish:** I hope it was worth the wait. Thanks so much for your support Jelly, its so very much appreciated.

 **Darla Wolf:** Knowing _Libra_ , I doubt she'd call Mihawk in on something like Kreigs ships, she'd save that favor for something major. But its an interesting thought.

 **Allykrau:** Hopefully the cliffies in the future won't be quite so overdramatic.

 **Toreh:** Not together yet, but we're getting closer...always closer. XD


	20. Bent But Never Broken

**Well, hello again.**

 **I am glad I didn't scare or offend too many people with my last chapter. I know it was a huge revel, and a rather horrifying one at that. But it made some sense to me, given that One Piece has very dark undertones that are skipped over mostly, but can be seen by the more mature audiances if one looks just a touch harder.**

 **In any case, I'm happy to post this next chapter, which has a nice ending to it. But I do have to add a little disclaimer, as there will be strong suggestions of attempted rape. The key word being 'attempted', as I would never openly post that kind of thing in a story with this rating.**

 **I must once again give a massive shout out to my amazing Beta, C.S Skywalker. I couldn't do this without you man, you are just the best.**

 **With that said, on with the story.**

* * *

If she ever did get out of this situation, Tamara was going to write a book about how a human could die from anxiety.

Close to nothing had happened since her Uncle and his navy-pirate crew had taken her from _Libra_. She'd been stowed aboard their ship, locked in the hold and left alone. Food was given to her, but less frequently that her previous captors. She was losing weight again, her ribs starting to show through her skin. The worst that had occurred on the ship was the occasionally group of foul tongued, horrid smelling men that gathered outside the cell and verbally mocked her.

The lack of attention from her Uncle was almost worse than him trying to force his will on her. Tamara barely slept, jolting awake in panic at every minuscule sound, constantly on edge and fearful of something happening. It was exhausting, draining her stamina and eating away at her.

She felt the ship shudder to halt and she knew the ship docked at an island somewhere. At this point, Tamara didn't even know if she was still in the Grand Line, though it was likely, given her Uncle's ambitions. She sat in silent for a moment, contemplating her fate as a clanking sounded in the cell hold. Tamara looked up quickly, her muscles immediately tensing for anything that could come her way.

It was her Uncle, Yorinaga, who had come down with Winters to do God knows what. She stared her uncle down, his cold eyes giving away nothing, merely smiling in a way that made her skin crawl. That was the first time she had seen Yorinaga in days. Her uncle jerked his head forward and Winters sauntered over to Tamara like an obedient hound. Cold shackles were slapped onto her wrists and she was bound again, led roughly off the boat onto a Navy base, or something that resembled it -she wasn't quite sure.

"These aren't Marine soldiers," Tamara noted quietly as she watched the men on the island who were grouped together, watching their arrival. She'd seen enough pirates to know what they looked like. The whole base was inhabited by pirates poising as marines.

Winters smiled cockily as he pushed her along, almost pleased that she had noticed the detail. "They're my men, my crew. They alter between acting as marines and pirates, evading when needed, attacking when we want. The Vice-Admiral and I have been partners for some time. Yorinaga is always the one to supposedly defeat or chase off the attackers from World Government Islands or report on it. We've built up quite the effective system." He grinned back at the Vice Admiral. "isn't that right, Vice-Admiral? I imagine that's worked well for you, helping you move up the ranks."

"Well enough," Yori grunted, slightly displeased at Winters. "Though you don't make it easy sometimes. It's a rewarding enough alliance for us both." A cunning look came into the Vice Admiral's eyes. "When I am back where I belong, you will never want for anything ever again Winters. I won't forget my friends, once I've regained my crown."

His eyes slide over Tamara and she shuddered, looking away. Briefly she contemplated running again, but with Yorinaga wielding his snake-whip, she wouldn't get very far. Tamara had fallen back into _'Survival Mode'_ , pushing away almost every emotion and simply existing heartbeat to heartbeat. Thinking too far in advance or trying to come to terms with what she'd learned about herself recently would have to wait. If she tried to deal with it now, she was going to fall completely apart, leaving herself too vulnerable to fight back.

Entering inside the complex, Yorinaga glanced at his partner. "Take her down to the cells. I need to report in, otherwise we'll end up with some actual Navy men wandering too close."

Winters nodded, nudging her hard, a smirk dancing on his lips. As she started to move, her Uncle spoke again.

"Oh and Winters." He sent a chilling smile that froze Tamara's blood like ice. "Do be gentle with my lovely niece. I'm sure she's tired from the long journey. I think she'd like to rest."

A grunt came from the pirate and Tamara willing fell in step with the man, grateful for the distance from Yorinaga. As the pair descended into the lower levels, she finally spoke directly to Winters.

"Seems like you're quite comfortable, living under Jii-Jii's thumb."

It was sickening to her, to call her relative by that prefix, but she was trying something new, something more brash.

The grip on her upper arm tightened to a painful degree, making her wince, "I'm not anyone's pawn, girl," Winters growled. "It's an acceptable arrangement. He keeps the Navy from constantly chasing after us, and we get our fill of fighting and treasure when we want. Don't think for a moment that Yori controls me."

"Of course not, Winters-san. Naturally you're still you own man. Forgive me for thinking otherwise," Tamara forgot to hold her tongue as the next bit slipped out. "It's somewhat hard to tell, seeing as you bark so willingly at his every command."

Tamara was jerked very suddenly around and shoved against the nearest wall. Instinctively, she loosened her body, so her head didn't hit the stone, letting her stay alert to face the man. Winters face was a living mask of rage, his eyes sparked with malice.

"You've got a big mouth for such a little girl," he snarled menacingly. "Maybe I should shut it for you...permanently."

She swallowed, shivering in response. "You've given up your pride. No pirate worth their name would ever have done what you've done, allowing themselves to be whipped into submission by a Navy man, Vice-Admiral or not."

"You lived with a man who did just that."

Tamara laughed out loud, a bitter, painful sound, but one that made Winters pause, his anger pushed aside with momentary confusion at her action. Getting control of herself, she responded in a cracking tone, feeling moisture at the edges of her eyes at the reminder that Mihawk was gone.

"If you think the Shichibukai respect or even listen to every single order given to them by the Government, you're more of a fool than I thought," she hissed, her sadness giving way to anger. "It's the Navy that begged them to join, they pleaded and cried on bent knees for their aide, not the other way around. You're just a stepping stone for Yorinaga. Don't believe he thinks you his equal. You'll be forgotten easily."

It was a big risk, trying to turn Winters against her Uncle. Seeing as the two had been partners for years, there was likely some level of trust between them. But Tamara didn't think Winters had ever been involved in a plan as in-depth as what Yori was doing now, given her relative's arrogance and self-entitlement. There might be a chance to create tension and rebellion in the ranks. So, she had to try, even as unskilled as she was at espionage.

Evidently, some of her words seemed to take effect as Winters snarled and stepped closer, his large frame an intimidating sight. "You should learn to keep your mouth shut, girlie."

With those words, he yanked on her arm again, pushing her more forcefully down the stair. Tamara stumble and fell to her knees, scraping the skin and causing it to bleed. Quickly climbing back to her feet before he could kick her down the steps, she continued to walk in silence. Part of her had been prepared for Winters to strike her, but the man apparently did listen to her Uncle's orders. Or maybe what she'd said really did affect him. Either way, he escorted her to another barred cell, unlocked the cuffs on her wrist and pushed her inside, shutting the door tight.

He walked away, slammed the second security door behind him. Leaving her in absolute, lightless darkness. Scrambling backwards till her back hit a wall, Tamara whimpered pathetically, falling down and pulled her knees up, trying to keep the panic at bay. The dark closed in, suffocating her, pressing on her mind, driving away her sanity.

 _…. Keep fighting...fear nothing in the shadows..._

A ghost from inside her mind murmured so softly she almost missed it in her terror. Tamara thought she must be imagining it, this voice that sounded so much like _his_. Even if it was just her mind playing tricks on her, she started to feel substantially better. Her heart started to calm, shaking lessened and breaths came easier. Carefully loosening her death grip on her legs, Tamara closed her eyes, silently waiting for another sound to be heard.

Nothing more came, but the darkness didn't press in anymore. She was calm again, able to focus and think. For a little while, Tamara felt almost like herself again.

* * *

Tamara jolted awake at the sound of a door opening. A beam of light cut through the black, the brightness making her flinch and cover her eye for a moment, trying to adjust. Footsteps sounded and she rubbed her face, trying to focus.

Winters stood outside the cell, looking as grim and menacing as ever. Swallowing, she stood up, waiting to see what he would do. But he simply opened the door, and grunted roughly, "Hands."

Turning, she stood passively as he clamped the cuffs over her wrists again. Time had lost meaning in the dark basement, she had no idea how long she'd been down here. Hunger gnawed at her belly, but she pushed it aside. Something was happening and she needed to be prepared.

Following alongside the pirate Captain, Tamara finally dared to speak. "How long have I been here?"

"Doesn't matter, keep moving."

That wasn't a good sign. Winters wasn't a chatty man, but he usually had at least been willing to mock or boast to her when she'd spoken to him in the past. Ascending up into the upper levels of the base, Winters pushed open a door. Behind it was her Uncle, looking clean and dignified in his Marine suit and _'Justice'_ coat. What really made her heart freeze was the fact that she was walking into his quarters. A large bed was set up on the far wall, as well as a fully set table with lit candles. Though the large windows, Tamara saw that night was falling, the sun sinking below the horizon.

Yori smiled almost kindly at her, nodding to his partner. "Thank you, Winters, you can remove those cuffs."

Puzzled by his actions and words, Tamara stood still while the restraints were removed, rubbing her wrist after and eying both men like a deer caught in a hunter's crosshairs. Yet her relative didn't acknowledge her, continuing to speak to Winters.

"That will be all for now. Prep you men for travel. We'll set sail at sunrise."

"Aye, Vice-Admiral."

With those words, the Captain left them along, closing the door tight. She stood frozen in place, muscles tense, trying to be prepared. Her Uncle looked over her, assessing her with sharp, blue eyes before stepping closer to the table and pulled out a chair. "Come sit, my dear. You must be terribly famished. I've had a meal prepared. Join me in sharing it."

Paranoia and fear jumped wildly through her system, confusion at his actions making her eyebrows furrow. This was not at all what she'd been expecting. Her Uncle's voice grew firmer, his face hardening. "Tamara...come."

Deciding that stalling for as long as possible was a good thing, she carefully walked forward, sliding in to the chair. Yori pushing in the furniture as she settled, moving around to sit across from her.

"There now, isn't that better?" he smiled warmly, but Tamara knew it was a snake's smile. "I want you to be comfortable. It pains me to see you so tense."

Tamara swore he was being sarcastic, but it was really hard to tell with his expression and tone of voice. From the main door, a servant came into the room, wheeling a food cart. His head was constantly bowed, and he didn't speak a word, unloading the transport silently. A covered plate was set before her, and the top was briskly removed to show an elegantly displayed meal. A glass of red wine was poured before her, and as quickly as they had came in, the man and his cart left the room.

Rising as the man left, Tamara felt ice coil in her veins as her Uncle locked the door tightly with a thick key, tucking it into his suit. Returning and sitting at the table, Yorinaga scooped up the vintage, sipping it delicately as he spoke. " _Duck l'Orange_ , one of my favorites, cooked to perfection. I'm sure you'll agree. Try it, it's quite delightful."

"You first."

She was surprised her voice didn't crack, given the tension running through her system. Her Uncle didn't seem mind her raging paranoia, finding it more amusing than offensive. He chuckled lightly, picking up his silverware and slicing into the tender meat.

"Living with the Shichibuikai has made you nervous, my dear niece," he took a bite of the meat, savoring it as she watched him. "I only wish for you to feel welcome."

There were no visible side effects. For now. She swallowed nervously, smoothing out her dirty clothes. Delaying as long as possible was something she desperately wanted. If her Uncle was acting like a host and trying to be civil, she'd play along for now. Mimicking him, Tamara cut off a small piece and chewed it slowly. It was a very well-cooked fowl, melting in her mouth. It would've been delicious had she not been so deprived of food the past days. She couldn't bring herself to enjoy it, feeling herself having to fight to keep down the food.

Finishing the mouthful, Tamara addressed the his previous comment about living with a Shichibukai. "Most people don't lock someone in a lightless dungeon when they want to be good hosts."

"A necessary precaution, I'm afraid. But not one that need not continue, if you wish," Yorinaga smirked, amused by her sharp tongue and Tamara tilted her head slightly in confusion. He took another draw from his glass, fork and knife scrapping against the plate as he ate.

"I've come to realize I may have been too...forceful...in my earlier pursuits. I was terribly angry, you see, furious that my beloved sister had passed away. It must have been grief and pain that drove me. Perhaps I even lost my mind for a bit. I never told you what I wanted for our family, what lengths I'd gone through to see our noble line restored. That was wrong of me, taking away your choice. Not giving you the chance to fully understand. " He looked her straight in the eye, face serious and reached out with one hand, taking her fingers in his grip before she could pull away.

"Do you not see, Tamara?" her uncle asked earnestly. "Everything I've done, every sacrifice, every action...it's all been for us, for _you_. For our family, our future. We are meant for more than this life, meant to stand above the rest. Don't you want to go home? Don't you want to again be among the clouds where we belong?"

Tamara hesitated. Yorinaga seemed to read into this as he continued, ever faster.

"This needn't be painful for you. I will give you everything you want; you will be a queen, a Goddess. It won't hurt, I won't hurt you ever again. And you will have children. Isn't that something you've wanted? Don't fight me anymore, accept your destiny. Let us go home together."

Bile rose in her throat and she quickly looked down to her plate. Her first instinct was to venomously deny ever word, shake her head and scream in disgust. But she was trying to stall, buying time. Taking in a breath, she gently extracted her hand from her Uncle's grip. He allowed it, sitting back to see what she would say.

"You must understand that this is," she struggled to mask her feelings, "difficult for me to accept all at once. You've had years to come to term with this, I've only known about...our family...for a short while."

"Of course, I understand." Yorinaga's eyes sparked and hardened, making her shiver, but he remained seated. "However, you must also understand that your permission and acceptance will made this endeavor much more pleasant for us both. But it is not required."

Tamara started suddenly. So now he showed his true colors.

"I am attempting to be courteous to you, my niece, but don't mistake my manners for weakness. I will have what is mine, my destiny is already set in motion," he sighed. "I've given you time, even forbade Winters and his crew from touching you, letting you adjust to this new reality. But my patience is wearing thin."

Tamara swallowed hard, feeling her anxiety rise rapidly. She thought quickly, reaching over to pick up the glass of wine she'd not yet touched, "I appreciate your courtesy, truly I do. But a few days is hardly sufficient, you must see that. Weren't you the one that said we had all the time in the world?"

Her words didn't seem to work at soothing her Uncle, his face growing angrier as he leaned forward. "I've waited years for my plans to see fruition. Bided my time, held my tongue and allowed myself to be looked down upon. All of that had led to this. I am attempting to make this better for you, but I will _not_ be denied."

She reacted without another thought. Flinging the glass forward, she pitched the liquid into Yorinaga's face. The alcohol blinded the man, him not expecting such an act. Snatching up the sharp dinner knife that she'd used to cut the meat, Tamara droved the blade through her Uncle hand where it rested on the table.

He yowled in pain, but Tamara didn't have time to celebrate the small victory. Shoving herself away from the table, Tamara bolted for the window, fully intending to throw herself through the glass. Her ears heard the snap of the whip and she darted sideways, avoiding the first coil of Nina. But having a sentient weapon did have benefits and the snake was faster than any human could be. Even as quick footed as she was, the second crack from the weapon hit its target.

Nina circled tight around her ankle, yanking her feet out from under her. Tamara relaxed her body on instinct, letting herself go limp. Spinning to look at the head of the snake, which she swore even in her panicked state looked guilty about its actions, she kicked out, catching the serpent with her heel. Not a strong hit, but enough to make the snake loosen her hold in surprise. It was enough to let her pull out her foot and scramble away.

She managed to get her feet under her again, lunging forward, away from her uncle. A rough hand wove itself suddenly into the strands of Tamara's hair, causing her to cry out in pain, the sharp jolting of pain from the tugging of her roots making tears sting her eyes. The hand yanked her in the opposite direction so that she was on her back, Yorinaga almost overpowering her as he crawled over her.

Twisting, she fisted her hands and lashed out at her Uncle. Swigging a punch at his face, she made her mark as his expression twisted into one of sheer rage. The pair collapsed into each other, a mass tangle of limbs. Tamara didn't scream as she thrashed and bucked in feral desperation. It would do no good, so she fought on in silence, the only sound being her panting breath. Yorinaga did not follow the same pattern as he struggled to subdue her.

"Selfish, ignorant girl!" he screamed, enraged. "Just like your Mother! She couldn't see it either! Couldn't see what it could mean! Your Father was the same! I could've given you both everything! Selfish, stupid women! Stop resisting! I will not be denied my destiny!"

His words only fueled Tamara's fight, making her more volatile. Driving up her knee into Yori's gut, which was akin to striking a stone wall, she briefly wondered why his skin was so tough. Lashing out with clawed fingers, she tried to rip out his eyes, scrambling backwards as his hold on her slipped slightly.

It was a temporary win, for even as she put minuscule distance between them, Yorinaga jumped forward, finally pinning her to the floor with his much greater weight. Her wrists were bracketed together in one large hand and forced above her head, his free hand -dripping blood from the stab wound- gripped the front of her dress and tore the fabric like paper, exposing part of her upper torso.

Whimpering despite her best efforts to hold it in, Tamara wriggled desperately, frantically fighting to stop this, to get free, just for a few more moments. Her heart pounded, black terror filling every part of her.

 _"Help me...!"_ she silently thought, begging to some unseen deity to answer, _"Someone, please help...!"_

The horrific struggle was suddenly interrupted, as though her tearful, mental prayer was heard, out of all the people in the world, answered by Winters, who slammed open the door to the room and howling in a panicked voice,

 **"YORINAGA!"**

They both froze at the appearance of the pirate captain, though her Uncle's grip only tightened, leaving no chance to break free as she got over the surprise and started squirming again. His head snapped up and Tamara swore for a moment the whole room trembled from the uncontrolled fury radiating from him.

"What Winters?" Yorinaga snapped, spittle flying from his mouth as he snarled at his subordinate. "This better be important!"

Winters was a large man, intimidating and daunting to look at. He was not someone easily spooked, hardened by the sea and battle. But in that moment, his knees shook, sweat beaded on his forehead and his eyes rolled in hysteria. He sputtered for a second before answering, voice pitched octaves higher,

"H-He's here! _Hawk-Eyes_ Mihawk is here!"

* * *

With the eternal pose given to him by _Libra_ , the journey to this new island had been swift. It was a small landmass, one likely overlooked by most vessels, which probably was what this corrupt and deranged Vice-Admiral was aiming for.

Securing his Coffin Boat on the shore, Mihawk moved further inland. Letting the Color of Observation flare through his system, he quickly checked over the area. There was probably a small village further inland, some faint life signs came from the middle of the island. A small settlement was to the east, whether it was a town or base was unknown at this point. Most of the aura's were uninteresting. But as he moved towards that location, more because it was closer and easier to investigate, as a few features popped out.

One life force present was of a red coloration, but such a dark tint that it was almost brown. Another one was pure black with small, almost non-exitance veins of yellow running through it. But it was the third aura that truly drew his attention. The one he'd been so determinedly searching for, the one that made a small smile cross his face upon viewing it. A blinding, golden light, familiar and more welcomed than anything he'd ever seen.

He'd found her, finally caught up to his lady.

She was weaker than when she'd left Kuraigana, but that was to be expected. It was still unacceptable; these scoundrels would pay dearly for the abuse. On his back, _Yoru_ growled low. The two were in perfect synchronization, with no questions or troubles between them. An absolutely terrifying pair, capable of destruction on a level bordering genocidal. Seeing her shining aura filled him with glee, his steps increasing in pace, hurrying to her location. On his shoulders, Virgil meowed loudly, perhaps also sensing his Mistress's close proximity.

The dense jungle of the summer island started to thin. Sunset was coming, the light starting to leave the area. Before him, Mihawk saw another base, this one looking to be more based around Navy construction. A high, well-built wall secured gates and an interior headquarters. It was located close to the ocean for easy access to the large ships moored in the distance.

He was already aware from the information from _Libra_ that this place was no official Navy base. Though it wouldn't have mattered one whit to him. Even if Yorinaga had taken her to a legitimate facility, he still intended to raze this place to the ground. Mihawk lowered one shoulder slightly, saying nothing. Virgil obediently scrambled down the side of his body but continued to walk close by.

Knowing that there would be no way he would be able to stop the cat from following along, he unsheathed _Yoru_ and sent a powerful Haki slice straight through the front gate as he drew nearer. He was a bit surprised that no one had attempted to shoot him as he approached. But then again, this base wasn't manned by real soldiers. The explosion of stone and wood shook the ground, sending peons flying and screams lit the air. Smoke kicked up as he calmly walked through.

To those poor unfortunate souls that witnessed this entrance, their very blood curled in their veins. With night falling, shadows closing in and swirling dust everywhere, all that the inhabitants of the base saw was a vengeful demon risen from hell itself, with yellow eyes burning like wicked hot coals. Darkness enveloped the air around the beast, the soul freezing visage of a feathered bird of prey climbing up behind the two-legged being, a shriek of unholy power seeming to be heard by all who saw. Death had been given a physical form, its vengeance and bloodlust screaming to be stated.

The massive blade was lifted, and the carnage began.

* * *

 **Sooo, show of hands. Who's happy the two are nearly back together?**

 **Thought so. XD**

 **As always, I must do shout outs to my loyal reviewers.**

 **diegokpo30: I'm glad you're enjoying the story. I am kinda proud about the last chapter, it seemed like a fairly orginal idea. As for the Busoshoku Haki, I may yet use it, but as of right now, I've no immidate plans.**

 **Nevermorea: I still greatly fear the mini-Nevers...**

 **WhiteyWolf26 : So glad for your review, Whitey. It was so refreshing to read that someone really understood what I was going for in the plot twist and that it wasn't meant to be sick or twisted, mearly a potentail of a horriable reality that could very well be belivable in the One Peice world. Your words are so touching, I can't thank you enough.**

 **TheComprehensiveJellyfish: Glad I caught you off guard Jelly. XD I'm sure you weren't the only one.**

 **BlackDove WhiteDove: Brace yourself...things are about to get messy...XD**

 **OneWhoReadsTooMuch: I agree, the Celestial Dragons definatly make superb bad guys. Hopefully I managed to capture Mihawk's rage appropriatly in this chapter.**

 **Ducky: Welcome to the chaos Ducky. Thanks so much for your beautiful words, I hope to hear from you again.**


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